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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26718133">King Nothing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_the_Hat/pseuds/Rose_the_Hat'>Rose_the_Hat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>October Rust [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Bottom Jensen Ackles, Crimes &amp; Criminals, M/M, Murder, Organized Crime, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Torture, Violence, blink and you miss it bottom jared</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:54:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>31,883</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26718133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_the_Hat/pseuds/Rose_the_Hat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jensen is a powerful mob boss who has been kidnapped and Jared is his Enforcer willing to do anything to get him back</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>October Rust [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1938799</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>87</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Master of Puppets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a companion piece to The Power Behind The Throne from Jared's POV. Yes, you do need to read/have read that to understand this. </p><p>I never planned on writing from Jared’s POV, so any inconsistencies you may notice from the previous story and this one, just chalk them up to me doing a little retconning or Jared being an unreliable narrator. </p><p>Huge thanks to jdl71 for doing the beta and being an awesome cheerleader and support even when I kept sending her the same parts multiple times to read. </p><p>Fic title and chapter titles are all Metallica songs. </p><p> </p><p>  <b>Blanket warning:  Jared is not a nice guy and he does very bad things without remorse. Reader discretion is advised. </b></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jared has a love/hate relationship with Date Night. He loves that it’s just he and Jensen but hates that he has to act formal and disinterested. Just a bodyguard, nothing more. The atmosphere of The Roadhouse BBQ joint is way more relaxed than the usual black-tie places they go to. Sam Ferris, who owns it, was only able to start the restaurant because of a loan from Jensen’s Organization. The Roadhouse is a fucking reconverted wood barn with sawdust on the floor and the food is served on butcher’s paper. It’s a real down-home kind of rustic atmosphere that Jared absolutely hates. No class at all and the food isn’t even that great and it’s overpriced. But Jensen loves it and Jared loves watching him lick sauce off his fingers. </p>
<p>“I wanna hear some Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band. I gotta piss.” Jensen stands, stretches, patting his tummy in satisfaction and heads toward the restrooms. </p>
<p>Jared watches him go struggling to contain the stupid happy grin that wants to break out. Jensen wants to hear some Seger; Jared will damn well play it for him. Jensen loves his classic rock from the seventies. Jared’s musical tastes tend more toward heavy metal: Iron Maiden, Metallica, and Judas Priest. He strolls over to the jukebox, pulling a handful of coins from his pocket. He’s not sure there will be any Seger in a place like this. The juke is full of old C&amp;W music: Hank Williams, Tammy Wynette, plenty of Garth Brooks, George Strait, and Johnny Cash. He finds some Eagles, Skynard, Mellencamp, and next to that is Seger. Jared shoves some quarters in the slot and pokes the numbers for <i>Night Moves</i>. He was definitely gonna employ some night moves on Jensen tonight. He’d play with those cute nipples, eat that perfect ass; then fuck him slow, deep and hard, the way they both liked. He needed to get off that train of thought real fast or he was gonna march into that bathroom and fuck Jensen in the stall. </p>
<p>He glances back over his shoulder to watch Jensen head into the Mens. Inwardly sighing at how fucking gorgeous his man is. The older he gets the more gorgeous he becomes and Jensen was fucking beautiful right from the start. Jared can admit when he first got with Jensen it was to further his own dream of becoming a mobster. After meeting Jensen it became about so much more than that; it was about impressing him, and making himself indispensable to Jensen. He never thought they would fall in love.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <i>Jared had thought Petey would never get out of the joint. He went up for auto theft, and served two and a half years of a three year sentence. Jared was on his knees with a john’s sour-tasting prick in his mouth when Petey found him. Jared had been in a sort of trance, a kind of self-hypnosis he employed to get through these encounters; he took his mind away. He imagined he was on a beach in Aruba with the hottest guy in the world; imagined waves crashing, tropical birds singing, and the sun blasting off white sand. He thought he had imagined Petey swooping in like some dark avenging angel and coming to his aid, too, but he was actually there, and he was beating the ever-loving shit out of the john. Petey forgot his strength when he was mad and could easily kill this guy. He just got out of prison and Jared didn’t want him getting sent right back on account of him. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared snapped out of his daze. “Petey!  Stop it!  Stop it! I’m sorry!  Don’t kill ‘im!” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Everything sounded very loud in the dingy alley; the meaty thwacks and grunts as fist collided with flesh and bone, Petey’s shouts, the john’s sniveling and crying; it was a cacophony that would surely bring someone soon, even in this shitty part of town. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’m sorry Petey!  I didn’t know what to do!”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Petey stopped his assault on the john who was bleeding and looked to be unconscious. He turned to Jared and did something he never had. He hugged Jared, hugged him so tight Jared thought his ribs would crack. He’d missed Petey, too; Petey who was part brother and part father figure. He buried his snotty tear-streaked face against Petey’s chest. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’m sorry!  Please don’t hate me, Petey,” Jared cried in shame. “I didn’t know what else to do.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Petey broke the embrace and looked him up and down. There was no recrimination, no censure in his grey green eyes, just fondness and understanding. “You got fuckin’ tall, Kid. Not as tall as me but youah prob’ly still growin’.” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared felt like crying again. It was so good to hear Petey’s deep voice and Brooklyn accent. It felt like home. He sniffed, swiped an arm across his eyes, and tried to get himself under control. He tried to meet Petey’s eyes but couldn’t. He was mortified. Why couldn’t Petey have found him at any other time, like when he was at the library?</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Petey slung an arm around Jared’s scrawny shoulders and walked him out of the alley and away from the unconscious john. “It’s okay, Kid,” he said in a soft confidential voice. “You did what ya hadda do. I get it. Things’ll get betta now. I even got a line on a job.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“What kind of job?” Jared asked. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Woahkin’ on a loadin’ dock; unda the table kinda gig. Guy I did some favors for in the joint said for me to see a guy named Kane. He’ll put us to woahk. See, Jay, I know all about doing what ya hafta. Don’t worry about it no moah.” He affectionately ruffled Jared’s greasy, shaggy hair. </i>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <i>Petey and Jared, who were soon known as Big ‘n Little, were put to work on the loading dock for a trucking company called Transportation Solutions. It didn’t take Jared long to realize that it wasn’t as above board as it appeared. Petey didn’t care. They were getting paid. Not a lot, but enough to have an actual apartment; Kane hooked them up once more, and ate pretty regularly. They weren’t eating Wagyu and caviar or drinking 25 year old single malt Scotch but they were getting by. Getting by was enough for Petey. Not for Jared. He wanted more and he was going to get it. Transportation Solutions was just a starting point. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared knew gangsters, practically had a degree in them because he read every book, every article, he could about them; so he recognized the name of the CEO of Transportation Solutions, Jensen Ackles, the son of Iron Alan Ackles, leader of the Ackles Organization crime syndicate. Alan Ackles had been brought up on arson, drug trafficking, and racketeering charges over the years but nothing seemed to stick. Jensen himself had been accused of murdering a whorehouse madam a couple of years ago but that charge didn’t stick either. The Ackles were made of Teflon it seemed. Teflon, just like John Gotti. Oh, how Jared wanted to belong to that violent and elegant world. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>For the first time they had a semblance of a life. Petey even had a honey for a year and a half, but that blew up when he found out she was cheating on him practically the entire time. Jared tried his best to comfort his friend. He got drunk with him on cheap red wine and listened to him rant and wail about her. He was tempted to hunt her down and take her out for causing his best and only friend this kind of pain. He didn’t however. Petey still loved her and wouldn’t want her hurt. He couldn’t even go after the dude she was cheating with because Petey had beat the piss out of him. So Jared drank and listened and sympathized as best he could. Jared had his own hook ups, no one he got serious about. It felt good to fuck because he wanted to not because he needed cash to eat. It was a life but Jared wanted more. So he kept his eyes and ears open, waiting for an opportunity to advance.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>They had been working at the loading dock for a little over two years when Kane strolled up to them during break time. He was a compact man, sturdy legs and muscled arms, with a perpetual scowl on his face but he was a cool dude. Tough, no doubt, but also approachable—if the scowl didn’t scare you off that was. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Big. Little,” Kane greeted looking them up and down, blue gaze assessing. They were both big dudes; Petey stood six foot eight for fucks sake. It was unreal. Jared’s own height was six foot five, not too bad, but he couldn’t seem to fill out his lithe frame, even all the time spent lifting shit didn’t seem to bulk him up. Petey was still rangy as well but seemed to have some muscles. Jared thought a proper diet would go a long way to help them both out.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Hey ya,” Petey greeted back and nudged Jared with an elbow.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Hi, Mr. Kane.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Aah, Little, drop that mister shit. I’m just Kane. Listen, I wanted to have a little chat with you guys. Ty says you’ve worked out real well here. You work hard and keep your mouths shut. I’m gonna assume, since you knew Stuart in prison, Big, you have an idea about who we are and what we do.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Yah. He told me some things.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared is giddy inside. He knows Kane is very high up in the Ackles Organization. He may not have Iron Ackles’s ear, but he damn sure has the ear of the son, Jensen. If Kane is talking to them he wants to use them somehow. Maybe if they do good at whatever Kane asks of them they can move up the ranks. Jared wants off this fucking loading dock. He’s tired of sweating his balls off all day to go home to a dumpy apartment with achy muscles, eat a sandwich of cold cuts or a hot dog for dinner, and go to bed on a saggy mattress only to get up and do it again. He wants more for Petey too, Petey who always looked out for him, deserved better. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I need some guys to help with…collections, if you catch my meaning.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared’s pulse raced. Fuck yeah he knew. Either collecting for loan sharks or maybe bookies. Still low on the totem but better than moving crates of what were probably guns in amongst loads of toilets or other mundane goods. Having to deal with Ty Olsson’s fucking smug face acting so magnanimous. Like he gave them their jobs and they should be grateful when it was Kane who put them to work. Jared didn’t really like Ty. His time working the streets has taught him how to read people. Ty strikes him as an overconfident prick but not only that but greedy. That was a combination of traits Jared could work with. He just wasn’t sure how yet. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“We get ya,” Jared says coolly. He swipes his forearm across his sweaty forehead and does his best to appear impatient. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You’re big fuckers and look like you can handle yourselves in a fight. Wanna come work with my crew from time to time? Just cases where we’ve had some trouble collecting. They catch sight of you two I imagine they’ll cough up what they owe if they have to sell a kidney to do it.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>So Jared and Petey split their time between the loading dock and with Kane’s South Side collections crew. They only had to get physical half a dozen times so far. They got a cut but understood most of the cash went to Mr. Ackles. The extra was enough that they could have steak (not good cuts, but steak was still steak) rather than hamburger all the time. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared kept his eyes and ears open. It wasn’t until Iron Alan Ackles died and his son stepped fully into the role of mob leader that Jared began to hear useful things. Hanging around outside an Organization owned pawn shop while Kane was collecting, he overheard two, or maybe it was three, guys talking about the new Mr. Ackles in the alley. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’ve worked the rackets a long time. Iron Alan was the best.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“What ya make of the kid, Freddy?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Can’t say. Iron Alan kept his son right by him, even after that wife of his ran off to live in Scandinavia or wherever the fuck. The boy used to come collectin’ from time to time. Now, he has this Kane guy doin’ it. Ya ask me he doesn’t really care for the business if he’s willin’ to shirk responsibility like that, Mark.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“That a fact? Interesting.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared took note of the musing speculative tone in the speaker’s voice. While Jared dismissed most of that as idle talk, he did file it away for potential future use, and burned the names Freddy and Mark into his memory. The shit he overheard Ty Olsson talking about was a little more than idle. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared was coming back to the loading dock after pissing out his morning coffee when he heard hushed voices. He slowed down, kept his steps light and quiet, and listened. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“He ain’t like his old man.” That was a voice Jared didn’t recognize.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“That’s for sure. They call him Pretty Jenny. Hear that shit? We’re supposed to take the kid seriously?” That was Ty and he was talking shit about the new Big Boss Man. Jared could definitely use that information somehow. He wasn’t sure what he would do yet but he would do something. There was an opportunity to be had here. An opportunity that could catapult he and Petey from this loading dock to the upper echelons of the Organization. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I know. He’s a fucking faggot, too. What does a fag know about anything?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared sneered at that. He was a faggot and could totally show them what a fag knew about kicking ass or even murder. He just bet Mr. Ackles could, too. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Over a period of three weeks Jared overheard more hushed conversations between Ty and a man he learned was Tim Omundson.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Wouldn’t be hard,” Ty said. “We could work together and pull it off.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Shit, I know that’s right,” the man named Tim said. “Named him Dallas’ Most Eligible Bachelor. What the fuck is that about? We’re supposed to believe a guy like that can keep his eyes everywhere? No. No fuckin’ way.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’m telling you man, we ought to get together on this. There is fucking money to be made here.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>These guys were fucking morons. Talk talk talk that’s all they did. They didn’t have balls or brains. Jared would have to loan them his. He had a plan in mind, it had come slow to fruition over the last weeks he had overheard these two schmucks talking. He had to line up the dominoes. And now seemed like as good a time as any.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared stepped up to them, making sure his footfalls were heard. The two men stopped their whispering. Jared slipped into his best aww-shucks-I’m-harmless-expression that had served him for years. It wasn’t as convincing as it had been when he was a kid but still, his dewy eyes and dimples seemed to put people at ease. Jared rounded the corner and there were Ty Olsson and Tim Omundson. Ty was a bigger guy, tall like Jared but with more bulk, and short cropped dark hair—receding hair Jared noted. Tim Omundson was an older guy with dark wavy hair streaked with grey and a full beard. Both men eyed Jared but didn’t appear too wary.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Hey guys,” Jared greets, he shoves his hands into his jeans pockets and hunches his shoulders and ducked his head to minimize his height and seem less threatening.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“What the fuck you think you’re doing snooping around here, Little?” Ty barked but there was a faint waver in his voice. He was scared Jared overheard them. Fucking chicken shit. He can talk a big game but won’t ever back it up. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I wasn’t snooping. I had to fucking piss. Can I have one of those?” Jared asks, indicating the cigarette hanging from Tim’s lips. He doesn’t like cigarettes, he’d rather a nice fat Cuban but he can only dream of that right now. And bumming a cigarette is an easy way to ingratiate himself.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Tim eyes him up and down, before giving a slow nod and handing over his pack of Pyramids. Jared takes out one and puts it to his lips. Tim hands him a cheap plastic Bic lighter. Jared lights up, inhales and blows out a plume of smoke. He will not fucking cough though the shitty tobacco burns his lungs and throat. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Thanks. Needed that.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The two seem to relax, like Jared thought they would. Now he’s going to place the first domino. “How would you do it?”  Jared asks blithely.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Two sets of eyes lock on to him, he takes another lazy drag off the cigarette, keeping his cool unconcerned visage in place. “You just gonna take a crate of high-powered weapons and hope no one will notice?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“What the fuck are you talking about, Little?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Talking about making money. I’ve heard you guys a few times. Voices, even whispers, carry around here. Lucky I wasn’t Kane. He’d rat right to Pretty Jenny.”  The words leave a bad taste in his mouth, or could be the cigarette but they have the desired effect of putting the two men more at ease with him.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>They look more closely at him. Jared knows they probably see a young guy, he’d just turned twenty-two but he looks younger, they can set up as a fall guy. That’s what he wants them to think and expects them to do. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“It wouldn’t work, you know?  Just taking a crate of weapons. You’d have to hijack the entire load.”  He finishes off his cigarette, snuffs it out with the toe of a boot and strolls away, grinning to himself. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He had to keep his hands clean and that meant he couldn’t have Petey in on this plan. Not that he didn’t trust Petey. He trusted him more than anyone in this shithole world, but Petey didn’t always see things Jared’s way. Petey did the things he had to to survive. Jared did them because he liked to. He liked the thrill of being on the wrong side of the law. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared was stretching, his back was in fucking knots, when Ty Olsson came onto the loading dock and got him a few days later. It was a bit longer than Jared had accounted for but not by too much.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Come with me a sec, Little.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Petey tossed him a curious look. Jared shook his head and shrugged as if he had no idea what Ty wanted with him. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Okay,” Jared said appropriately puzzled and followed the other man out of the warehouse.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You said an interesting thing last time. Hijacking a load,” his voice was hushed, interested.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Yeah. You know as well as anyone those crates are always accounted for. You couldn’t just cart one off on a forklift.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“And we wasn’t talking about doin’ it that way anyway. Be easy enough to empty a crate out.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jesus fucking Christ this guy was dumb. How the hell was he in charge of anything? “You think all the shit moving through here, Pretty Jenny ain’t got eyes on it all? C’mon! Only time a load is out of his control is when it’s on the road.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Right you are, kid.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared bridled at that. He didn’t mind Petey calling him “kid” but anyone else could fuck right off for doing it. He wasn’t a kid and hadn’t been in a long fucking time. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“And you need to line up a buyer. Know anyone?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I could find a few.” Ty is probably trying to sound noncommittal here but Jared can read between the lines. He wouldn’t know how to get rid of the goods once he’s got them. Fuck. Jared has to do everything. Doesn’t matter. It’s better this way. The more control he has over the pieces the easier it is to anticipate movements. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I know a guy. Or rather, Petey does. Evan Seinfield. Petey knew him in the joint. Biker. Rides with the Iron Crusaders MC. They’d take all the firepower we can offer.” That’s all bullshit but Ty doesn’t need to know that. He just needs to think there is a ready buyer for the hijacked load. Without that he won’t move. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>That greedy light flashes in Ty’s beady eyes. Jared knows he’s got the hook in good. “I’ll see what Tim says. The guns are his area.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The next time he meets with Ty, Tim is with him. There is a shipment of weapons going into this camouflage load of fixtures, and Tim is on the dock to oversee the operation.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Petey is running the forklift and Jared moves to stand close but not too close to the conspirators. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Ty told you what I said?” Jared asked, crossing his arms over his chest and watching the guys load the crates into the tractor trailer. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“He did. Said you could hook us up with a buyer. What would the split be?” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Me n’ Petey will take twenty-five percent of the profits, you and Tim can split however you see fit.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You and Big want twenty-five each?” Ty says, incredulous.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“No. Just twenty-five. We’ll split it between us. We’re not the ones assuming any risk. Our share should be the smallest.” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Ty smiled his magnanimous patronizing smile. “You got sense, Little. </i>
</p>
<p><i>Jared shrugs modestly. </i>You got an overinflated ego<i>, Jared thinks. </i>Makes you easy to manipulate. <i></i></p>
<p>
  <i>“The next shipment is due in two weeks. Six crates. AK’s and AR 9’s. Coming in near Galveston and going west. A short easy run.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Short run or not there will be a tracker,” Jared says. “It’ll need to be disabled. By the time anyone realizes you’ve missed a checkpoint everything will be over.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You don’t miss a trick do ya?” Ty said. “How come a smart guy like you just works a loading dock and shaking people down?” Ty eyes Jared speculatively.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Me n’ Petey are just trying to get by is all.” He flashes his eyes, eyes that he knows look guileless and soulful. His social worker used to call them puppy-dog eyes. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i> The dominoes are in place and soon he’ll be ready to knock them down. But before he does that he to get Petey involved now because when the time comes to knock the dominos down he will need Petey’s help and see about meeting with the Big Boss Man himself, Jensen Ackles. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>They got paid and decided to treat themselves and ordered pizza. They were lounging on the dumpy chairs, a pizza each and a six pack to split when Jared lines up another domino.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Petey, I gotta talk to you. Need some advice.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Pete finishes his beer. “Aww shit, Jay. You didn’t get some girl pregnant did ya? I fuckin’ told you, wrap it up every time and don’t listen to ‘er when she says she’s on the Pill.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“What?  No. Why you always think that?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You think I’m stupid, Kid?  I smell it on ya.”  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Petey’s nose can’t be that good because Jared knows he smells of jizz and lube when he strolls in after a hookup, but he’s been doing that less and less these days. He has more important things on his mind than his libido. “Anyway,” Jared says. “It’s about some dudes at the loading dock. They’re talking shit about the new Mr. Ackles.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Ah, Jay. People always talk shit about their bosses.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Yeah. Maybe but I don’t think Mr. Ackles is the kind of guy who would tolerate it if he knew. Know what I mean?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Petey took a huge bite of a new pizza slice and looked thoughtful. “Youah prob’ly right.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“And besides, it isn’t just all idle shit talk.” Jared leans in, lowers his voice even though it is just he and Petey in their apartment. “Some guys are talking about going into business for themselves.” He gives Petey a significant look.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Petey puts his slice down and slowly chews the last bite in his mouth. Jared knows he’s putting it together. Jared knows what people think when they look at Petey, or hear him speak. They think he’s a dumb palooka but he is far from it. He’s a simple guy, likes simple things, but he was not dumb. “Fuck. You thinkin’ we should tell Kane?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared had hoped Petey would say that. He shakes his head. “Kane’s always got someone around him. Maybe we can trust them maybe we can’t. I think we should go right to the Big Boss Man himself, but I don’t wanna be a rat, Petey. You know what happens to rats.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“It ain’t rattin’ when it’s to the boss about his own guys plottin’ against him. Besides, if anyone fucks with you they fuck with me. Kane been in on this talk, too?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Nah. He seems loyal to Mr. Ackles. Think if we’d ask he’d take us to see ‘im?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <i>Fucking Christ, Jared was nervous as an altar boy surrounded by priests as he and Petey climbed out of the luxury SUV. There were three other vehicles in the central turn-around, all sleek and black ready to be called into service; a Lincoln, a Mercedes, and a BMW. He gazed in awe at the pristinely white three story mansion with the six columns reaching up high. He hadn’t thought such places existed outside of movies and books. He dragged his eyes away from the house to take in the exquisitely kept grounds; the trees were manicured into perfect spherical shapes, the lawn lush and green, the flowerbeds burst with colors of pink, red, and white. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“This way, guys,” Kane said and led them up the porch.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared just about swooned as the wide front doors were opened and his eyes were bombarded by the glossy marbled tile foyer with an honest to god glittering crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Directly ahead was a wide gently rising staircase that ventured off into two directions. To the left of the foyer was what looked like the living room. Did rich people call it that?  Maybe it had a fancier name, like drawing room or a sitting room. Jared’s eyes hungrily feasted on the stylish but inviting furnishings; plush oversized couches and chairs; heavy coffee and end tables, Tiffany lamps. Light poured in from the many windows. The woodwork was all rich and dark. The walls were papered in a tasteful understated pale green damask pattern. The floors were oak and polished to a mirror shine. To the right of the foyer were a set of doors, one closed another open to reveal what appeared to be a formal dining room. Everything exuded elegance, wealth, and power. He would give his left nut to call a place like this ‘home’.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Kane led them down a short hallway to a heavy oak door. “Be polite and respectful. Mr. Ackles appreciates that,” he advised before rapping on the door.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Come in.”</i>
</p>
<p><i>Jared’s stomach fluttered; he was lightheaded and shaky. He better not pass the fuck out that was not the impression he wanted to make on his boss. Fuck!  He </i>worked<i> for Jensen Ackles but it never felt real before since they interacted with Kane. Jensen Ackles one of the most powerful men in the underworld and Jared was fucking desperate to impress him.</i></p>
<p>
  <i>He wished he was more properly attired in a nice pair of slacks and a button-up instead of ripped and faded jeans and a wife beater. He hopes Mr. Ackles won’t judge him too harshly. They’ve spent years scratching and clawing for what little they have. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He thought he was prepared to meet Mr. Ackles, had done a little research into him, seen his pictures in the papers but none of it had prepared him for the man himself. He knows people call Mr. Ackles ‘pretty’ but that isn’t the case. Mr. Ackles isn’t pretty. He isn’t handsome. He is fucking beautiful. The most gorgeous and breathtaking man Jared has ever seen. He’s unreal; a work of art in the flesh. Tall and slender, beguiling large green eyes, creamy complexion dotted with charming freckles, sinful mouth that Jared aches to taste. His blond hair is short and shaved at the sides and back but with a little length on top; perfect to grab hold of while fucking that mouth. He needs to not be thinking that way about his boss. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Mr. Ackles gets to his feet and Jared takes in his clothes. Jared loves fine things because he never had them. Mr. Ackles’s suit must be over five thousand dollars, a charcoal grey, not as severe as black would be, and a dove grey shirt and blue-grey tie. His loafers were without a doubt premium Italian leather. He dismisses Kane and looks Petey up and down, then turns his gaze to Jared. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Their eyes lock and Jared feels as if he has been struck by lightning. He thinks Mr. Ackles felt it too because there was a flash of desire in those eyes. Jensen wants him. Jared wants him right back, he wants everything Mr. Ackles could offer: wealth, fine clothes, plenty of delicious food, protection, and power. Jared is so fucking tired of wearing second or third-hand jeans and t shirts and eating cheap lunch meat on day-old white bread. He’ll take what he can get and never complain because it’s the best he can have right now. Petey seems satisfied for the most part, but Petey is a simple guy. He likes nature and working on old cars. Jared likes cars as well; he likes them fine and fast, Alfa Romeros, Rolls Royces, Bentleys, and Aston Martins. Ferraris and Lambos are too ugly and flashy. Jared will take classy over trash any day. Mr. Ackles is pure class born and bred in wealth and finery Jared could only dream of…until today. Mr. Ackles wants him and Jared will do whatever it takes to show him how useful he can be. He’s got a toe in the door, and he’s going to kick it in. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>As they are leaving Mr. Ackles presses a neat fold of bills into their hands. Five hundred dollars!  Its not a lot but more than either he and Petey have seen at one time. Maybe he can buy some better clothes, dress for the role he wants and he might just get it.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Back at their little apartment, Jared takes out the crisp bills again. He brings them to his nose and sniffs; loving the smell of new money but loving even more the lingering scent of Mr. Ackles’s cologne. He peels the bills apart to count them. His brows come together when a slip of paper tumbles out. He picks it up. Nine digits are written on it. That thunderstruck feeling courses through him again. This is Mr. Ackles’ phone number, probably his direct line, and he gave it to Jared. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He wants to call immediately but he can’t. He has to line up the last couple of dominos. When he knocks them down it will lead him straight to Mr. Ackles, maybe even his bed.</i>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Petey! Petey!  It’s going down now!”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“What?  Slow down, Jay.” Petey says regarding him with puzzled concern.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“The load. They are hijacking it right now. I saw Tim take the tracker off the truck. They would only do that if the truck isn’t going where it’s supposed to.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Aww shit,” Petey said. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“We gotta do something. C’mon,” Jared says and hurries toward the nearest exit. If he’s planned it right Ty and Tim will be in the parking lot, waiting for Jared and Petey to accompany them to the rendezvous with the buyer.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“What can we do, Jay?”  Petey asks but follows Jared off the loading dock and out to the parking lot.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Let’s follow the truck. We can take the shipment back.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Youah crazy.” Petey says but he’s still following Jared.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared grins over at him. “Help me, Petey. We can do this. These guys aren’t that smart. And imagine how Mr. Ackles will reward us.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I guess I gotta. You don’t know nuthin’ ‘bout drivin’ a rig. Who is drivin’ it now, do ya know?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He didn’t know but it didn’t really matter either because Jared would kill them, too. Exactly as planned, he saw Tim getting into the passenger seat of a black Cadillac. Jared can see Ty in the driver’s seat and the engine is on. Jared pulls out a gun as they near the black car. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Whahe the fuck did you get that?” Petey exclaims.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Does it matter?” Jared strides up to the SUV, aims his silenced .38, and pulls the trigger twice, taking out Ty and Tim. Their faces, before Jared blew them away, registered surprise but not unwelcome. Why would he, he believed Jared was there to lead him to the rendezvous with Evan Seinfield.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You crazy mothahfucka,” Petey says. Jared thinks Petey might even be having a little fun. It was hard to tell with him sometimes. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The dominoes fall as Jared planned. They take the semi back at an out of the way truck stop called the Dixie Boy. They pile Ty, Tim, and the two men who had been in the cab of the rig into the trunk of the Cadillac, it was a tight fit, and leave it parked at a lot in Ackles Organization territory, where the bodies will be found by the right people. For an extra touch Jared carves the word TRAITOR across their foreheads.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>When they are back on the road Jared calls the number Mr. Ackles gave him. As he suspected, it was Mr. Ackles’s private line. When he answers the phone in the sexiest growl Jared has ever heard he has to hide the chub he pops from Petey. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>As Petey is driving the rig to the rendezvous point Mr. Ackles gave them, he turns to Jared, a grin tugging at his lips. “You crazy little shit. You put this whole gawdamn thing togetha, didn’t ya? Don’t lie to me. You did. I see it on ya face.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared throws his head back and laughs. </i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><i>Night Moves</i> ends and Jared looks at his watch, the vintage Paul Newman Daytona Rolex Jensen gave him for their fifteenth. Jensen had been gone awhile. Jared didn’t wanna bug him if he was taking a shit but his stomach was starting to clench and he felt shaky inside. It was a feeling he would not ignore. Something was wrong.</p>
<p>He stands and heads to the restrooms, already pulling his phone out to call the guys. He pushes inside the Mens and his stomach drops through the floor. The stall doors are all partially open and he cannot see Jensen’s Balenciaga sneakers anywhere. He does see a fucking hypodermic needle on the floor. He smashes his thumb to Petey’s contact page. His old friend answers after one ring.</p>
<p>“I’m at The Roadhouse. Someone took Jense. Call the rest of the Inner Circle and get them here now!”</p>
<p>“Jared,” Peter’s voice is sharp and hard, but that’s not what stops Jared from hanging up, it’s the fact that Peter used his actual name. Usually Peter will call him Kid or Jay. “Listen t’me. Youah upset and not thinkin’ cleah. You wait foah us. You heah me, Jared?”</p>
<p>He knew Peter was right. He was so fucking on edge and shaky right now. It was all he could do to not pull his gun and start asking questions. He could hear Peter moving, hear him shouting for the others at the Compound. </p>
<p>“Petey….” His voice is brittle. He feels so fucking helpless and useless. He hears the voices of the others, hears car doors opening.</p>
<p>“Jared, weah leavin’ right now.”</p>
<p>He can hear engines starting and tires squealing. “Someone drugged him and took him from me, Pete. And I…I let it happen.” His eyes sting and his throat closes up. “Pete, I gotta do something.”</p>
<p>“No. What you gotta do is fuckin’ wait. I know you, Jared, youah probably a cunt’s haiah from shootin’ up the joint. You can’t do that. Fuhst it’ll bring the wrong kind of attention, second that attention will complicate things. But it will scaah the people theah and they won’t be able to tell us anythin’ useful.”</p>
<p>It felt as though he was caught in the grasp of a giant, Polyphemus maybe, and the Cyclops was squeezing his breath out. His heart is pounding harder than it ever has. His mouth tastes metallic from the sudden dump of adrenaline. He knows what Petey is saying is the truth. </p>
<p>Jensen is his entire world and if something happened to him Jared would not be able to go on. He will do anything to get him back alive. And if he doesn’t…well, he’ll take out anyone even remotely responsible for his death then eat a bullet himself. There wasn’t a Jared if there wasn’t Jensen.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Once Peter and the rest of the IC were at The Roadhouse it was easier for Jared to find his cool. His friends, his fellow soldiers, <i>Jensen’s friends</i>, were here to help him. Each wore similar tight expressions of worry and anger. It was Lazy Jase who asked the prudent question, the one Jared himself hadn’t thought of and hated that he hadn’t thought of first. </p>
<p>“Where the fuck is Pileggi? He drove y’all didn’t he?”</p>
<p>Five pairs of eyes locked onto Jared. How fucking stupid was he to not notice sooner that Jensen’s longtime chauffeur was suddenly missing as well? Petey was right. He wasn’t thinking clearly. That shit had to stop right fucking now. He closed his eyes and exhaled, finding that dark empty well of coldness inside; it was a little harder because his life had been so full of warmth and love for the past fifteen years, but that source was gone and in danger now. Who else knew where Jensen and Jared would be tonight? No one but Pileggi. Not even anyone in the IC knew where Jensen and Jared went on date night. Jared learned from his poker and pool games with the IC that they thought Jensen went out to get a nice piece of ass a couple of times a month, and Jared went along as his bodyguard. Jared would happily drive them, in the gorgeous midnight blue Bentley Jensen had given him for his thirtieth birthday, but Jensen always insisted on Pileggi in case either of them wanted to drink. Now Pileggi and Jensen were both gone. Jared was willing to bet that motherfucker had sold Jensen out and fled. Jared cracked his neck and exhaled. </p>
<p>“Yes. Find him and bring his ass to The Ranch. Kane, get Aldis and Lindberg working on tracing the GPS signal in Jensen’s phone.”</p>
<p>The IC nod in grim unison and get back in their cars. Pete stares down at him, grey-green eyes awash in concern. “He’ll be okay. He’s a tough bastahd.” He claps Jared on the shoulder with one broad hand and gives him a gentle shake.</p>
<p>“I will walk into Hell and dethrone the Devil to get him back. And when I do, nowhere on earth, Heaven or Hell will be safe for the motherfucker who took him from me.”</p>
<p>Peter visibly shivers and crosses himself before heading back to his old Mustang. Jared gets in the Cadillac and heads toward The Ranch. He has preparations to make.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Here Comes Revenge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>2 – Here Comes Revenge</p>
<p>The Ranch is what it looks like from the outside, an abandoned run-down former horse ranch the Ackles Organization bought decades ago. The paddocks are overgrown, the fences rotting and missing in places, the barn is collapsed on the north side, stove in by a tree in a storm years before, and miles away from the nearest neighbor. The house itself is also dilapidated and in bad disrepair, as far as the exterior goes. Inside it is a fortress, heavy locks and steel doors, three feet thick solid concrete walls that were all soundproofed into four individual interrogation cells.</p>
<p>Jared stands beside the table, with his plastic face shield down, rubber apron over his shirt and jeans, black gloves over his big skilled hands. His toybox of shiny metal instruments open on the table beside him. He imagines he looks like the villain in every torture porn flick, but interrogation is dirty work. He may be dressed in Levis and a black tee but he ain’t about to get his clothes splattered with blood or any other bodily fluid. You can’t get that shit out. Just have to throw your clothes away. Wasteful, really. </p>
<p>Pileggi’s big bald head is peppered with fat beads of sweat as Petey and Kane haul him into the cell. Pileggi’s one eye is swollen shut, probably broken orbital bone, maybe even cheekbone. There’s a nasty gash on his forehead and he has a split lip. He was more or less in good condition, like Jared ordered. </p>
<p>“Strap ‘im in,” Jared said coolly, eyes already going over the tools in his arsenal wondering what he should start with. </p>
<p>“I don’t know anything,” Pileggi says, but he sounds mushmouthed. Probably got some missing teeth or maybe a fucked jawbone, those hambones Petey calls fists pack a wallop. It does give Jared an idea; he’ll start with a little <i>Marathon Man</i> action. </p>
<p>Kane and Petey drag him over to the embalming table. Jared chose that for his interrogations because those tables were hard and solid not offering any comfort for a live person. The idea of being alive on an embalming table was sometimes enough to unman people; plus, embalming tables had those handy channels for spilled blood to run into. It was old and made of porcelain and Jared could orient his subject however he wished. He had customized this gem with arm and leg restraints as well as a cap for the head. </p>
<p>Pileggi’s eyes go wide as he takes in it. He drags his feet to inhibit Petey and Kane’s progress. Pointless; Petey could bench press the traitorous old fuck. </p>
<p>“Honest!  I was never told anything!”</p>
<p>This guy is fucking lying thought the teeth he’s about to lose. “Hmm-mmm,” Jared says noncommittally pulling out a sickle probe and examining its sharpness. Oh. How silly of him. He’s getting ahead of himself. He puts the probe down and picks up the retractor.</p>
<p>“You can end this even befoah he gets staahted by tellin’ ‘im wheah Mr. Ackles is,” Petey says effortlessly hefting Pileggi onto the table, despite his struggles. </p>
<p>“I don’t know!”</p>
<p>“Open wide,” Jared says holding out a plastic retractor to slip into his mouth.</p>
<p>Pileggi pales. His Adam’s apple bobs as he convulsively swallows. “No,” he shakes his head even as Kane grabs it and brings the leather strap down across his forehead and locks it off tight; then follows with the chin strap.</p>
<p>“Comfy?” Jared asks politely.</p>
<p>“No. Please.”</p>
<p>“Word of advice: just tell him what you know,” Kane says. He pats Pileggi’s right cheek, the possibly broken one. Pileggi flinches and whimpers. Kane grins over at Jared and gives him a wink.</p>
<p>“I don’t know!” Pileggi wails.</p>
<p>Jared jerks his head toward the door, dismissing Petey and Kane. He has work to do. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <i>Petey stood with his head bowed in contrition as Mr. Ackles—privately Jared called him Jensen but wasn’t brave enough yet to address him by his name out loud—bawled them out for the hijacking. He doesn’t yell; his icy timbre and underlying threats get the point across more effectively than shouting. This man is always in control, Jared observes. He wondered if that control extended to the bedroom.</i>
</p>
<p><i>Loath as he was to even think about those two dark years he had “worked” for Kurt Fuller they taught him several things. Men like Jensen, men who shoulder enormous responsibility and are always in control, sometimes need to let it go, </i>long<i> to let it go. Maybe it’s that way for Jensen, or it was possible he liked to </i>always<i> be in control. Either way it played out was cool with Jared. He wanted to be whatever Jensen needed him to be. No, Jared reflected, he didn’t want to only be a plaything for the Big Boss Man. He wanted to be a help, a source of comfort and strength to Jensen. </i></p>
<p>
  <i>Was this what falling in love felt like?</i>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared remembered how nervous he was the first time he set foot into the mansion. It was nothing to how nervous he was now as he went up the stairs to the third floor. His first night at the Compound and he was heading up to bed the Big Boss Man. He was taking a big risk, but he thought it would pay off. Jensen wanted him and Jared wanted him in return. It went beyond physical attraction. He was in love with Jensen. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He had thought there might be a guard stationed at the bottom of the gently rising stairs, but the way was clear. Stepping onto the third floor felt like stepping on hallowed ground. This was Jensen’s private domain. He opened one door but only saw what appeared to be a games room with a pool table in the center and a poker table near the corner and a wet bar, all very tasteful and masculine. Jared adored it. Behind the next door was a library with floor to ceiling built in bookcases each lined with books. Petey would love it in there. Behind one door was nothing but extra linens and cleaning supplies. The last door had to be Jensen’s bedroom. Jared pressed his ear to the door but heard nothing from within. He had no idea what he would do if Jensen was with another man.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He turned the knob and the door opened silently. Jensen was inside, buttoning the top of his gorgeous sapphire blue silk pajamas. He turned, brows drawn together and luscious mouth pulled down in a scowl, no doubt pissed for someone intruding in his bedroom. Jared’s heart thudded and he struggled to keep his cool and aloof mask in place. If Jensen turned him away Jared thought he might die from humiliation.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He licked his lips and eyed Jensen up and down, saw the growing bulge at the front of his pajama bottoms. He crosses the room with deliberate steps, eyes locked with Jensen’s. When he is inches away from the man he asks the question he already knows the answer to. “We doin’ this, baby?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jensen’s beautiful eyes fill with longing so acute it hurts Jared’s heart. He knows in that instant that Jensen longs to let go of his rigidly held control. It’s confirmed when Jensen sinks to his knees and calls him ‘Sir’. Jared vows on what tattered honor he has that he will be exactly what Jensen needs. Use every trick in his extensive arsenal to give Jensen unparalleled pleasure.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared has had a lot of sex, but with Jensen it was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It went beyond physical need, slaking desire. The absolute trust Jensen put in him was humbling. Jared would never misuse or betray it. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>When Jensen rides his cock, that tight hot body moving so gracefully on him, those lust-blackened eyes locked with his, Jared’s heart and mouth run away with him. He babbles that he loves Jensen, he says it over and over and knows every word spilling from his lips is the god’s honest truth. This man is everything Jared has ever wanted but never dared to dream he could have. When Jensen replies, “you too,” in an ardent husk, Jared feels a tightness in his chest, as if his heart, broken at the age of ten when his mother, father, and little newborn baby sister were taken from him, was mending, made whole with Jensen’s love. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jensen passes out after his third climax, by then Jared had him coming dry. Jared holds his lover tightly in his arms, feeling more at peace with himself, the world, than he ever has. He would do anything, go to the ends of the earth for Jensen, and it would never be enough for all that Jensen has given him: comfort, security, luxury, money, and, now, love. He would kill for Jensen, had, and would again. If it came to it he would also die for him. </i>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared silently pushed open the door to Jensen’s bedroom. Three years and they are still doing this covert undercover lover shit.  It’s kind of annoying, having to creep in and out of his lover’s bedroom every night lest someone suspect that they are anything but boss and employee. Jared understands Jensen’s reasoning, of course. It all stems from the Big Boss Man’s childhood trauma of his mother’s abduction. Abducted because Iron Alan was a powerful figure and Donna had been used as leverage for an attempted take-over. In his way, Jensen is trying to protect Jared from something similar and keeping their relationship on the downlow gives Jensen a measure of comfort. Okay, maybe Jared doesn’t mind the creeping so much. He kinda feels like a ninja and ninjas are awesome. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The bedroom is empty, the plush four poster king size bed turned down for the evening, but light spills out from the ensuite. Jared enters the bedroom and closes the door behind him. He can hear Jensen singing softly from the bathroom. Hearing Jensen sing is a rare treat so Jared doesn’t announce his arrival. Instead moves closer to the cracked door to listen to the whiskey and cigarettes voice of his man.</i>
</p>
<p><i></i>“It's my private pleasure. Midnight fantasy. Someone to share my wildest dreams with me. Imaginary lover you're mine anytime.”<i> Jensen has his emerald pajama bottoms on shaking that cute little ass as he sings.  </i></p>
<p>
  <i>Jared grins and pushes open the bathroom door. “Oh, baby, I ain’t imaginary, but I am yours anytime.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jensen turns, his face flushing in embarrassment. “You sneaky bastard.” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared arches a brow. “Is that how you talk to me? When I came in here, it was with the intent on fucking that ass. Am I gonna have to spank it, too?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jensen swallows and his cheeks redden even more. He seems to struggle with himself before locking gazes with Jared. “I don’t know, Sir. Are you?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He does both. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Hey, Jared?” Jensen’s voice is a sleepy drawl post orgasm. Unlike most men Jensen doesn’t conk out after sex, he likes to talk. Jared hates it because he always feels so open after making love with Jensen that he will tell him anything he wants to know. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Hmm?” Jared replies. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You mentioned once that you killed your foster father. Was that the first time you killed?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Yeah.” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Can you tell me about it? I’ll understand if you can’t or don’t want to. I’m just curious.”</i>
</p>
<p><i>After three years together there isn’t much they don’t know about each other. Jared has never gone in depth about his youth, not because he doesn’t want to, but because Jensen has never before directly asked. Jared will tell him anything he wants to know…except about the two years he was a boy whore. He will </i>never<i> tell him that. </i></p>
<p>
  <i>“It all goes back to when I was nine,” Jared begins. “I’ve figured stuff out over the years, the way you do once you have an adult’s eyes.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jensen nods, gorgeous green eyes warm with sympathy and understanding. He laces his fingers through Jared’s hair pushing the sweat-damp strands away from his face. Not allowing Jared to hide from him. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I was an only child for years. I’d always ask my folks when could I have a brother or sister. I think now my mom had trouble conceiving or carrying. I never knew which. When I was nine she got pregnant. We were all so happy. Mom was gonna have a daughter and I was gonna have a baby sister to play with and protect. I’d sit with Mom on the couch and talk to Meggie, Mom and Dad already named her Megan. Tell her all we could do together and the fun we would have.” Jared feels his eyes begin to sting and his throat closing up. “I’d feel her move and respond to me. It was so amazing to me. A real little person, my sister, was inside mom and I loved her so much already.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Then mom got sick, that’s all I understood at the time. She had to stay in bed for the rest of her pregnancy. They always talked about her blood pressure being too high. I think she probably had preeclampsia and that’s dangerous. She went into labor with Meggie a month early, but Meggie was fine, apart from being kinda small, and Mom was okay. Dad was tired but happy when he came home to tell me about it. He said they’d have to stay at the hospital for a bit before he could bring them home. When time came for them to come home….” Jared stops. He can’t do it. He doesn’t want to go back to the time his life exploded. Jensen isn’t pushing, just watching him with those patient eyes. Jared blinks hard, feels tears spill over his lower lids. Jensen brushes them away.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“They were killed in a head-on collision on the interstate coming home from the hospital,” he says in a strangled voice.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Oh, Jared. I would do anything to spare you that. I am so sorry.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared sniffs and forces himself to go on. It hurts thinking about this, talking about it, but not as bad as he thought it would. “I ended up in the foster system. From there I ended up with the Armstrongs, Curtis and Alma.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“And he molested you?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Tried or maybe he did. I don’t fuckin’ know. The worst part was how he tried to manipulate me. Said God knew I was a dirty boy who liked men and He had killed my family as punishment.” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“What!” Jensen explodes, face a mask of fury and Jared falls even deeper in love. “That’s just….”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I know. I didn’t even know I was gay at the time,” Jared shrugs. “Well, I might have. I knew boys were supposed to like girls and get married when you grew up. All I could think about was wanting to kiss and hold hands with Joey McIntyre from New Kids on the Block.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jensen smiles his warm knowing smile. “I had a crush on Luke Perry from 90210.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared wants to smile but he can’t his heart is too full of pain. “He would touch me at first. Just little friendly shit: a pat on the back, petted my hair, you know, but it escalated. He’d pat my butt, rub my chest, then my dick. It felt good, ya know?  And that confused me. If he was doing something bad to me it should feel bad but it didn’t. Then, he tried to make me touch him. I packed some clothes, a jar of peanut butter and jelly, a loaf of bread, some Kool-Aid and left. You know what happened after that. I met Petey and things were mostly okay. I had someone who looked out for me, taught me things. He kept me fed, found us places to squat in, and he never tried to bad-touch me. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I still carried the guilt over my family’s death that Armstrong had instilled in me. It mixed with my burgeoning sexual identity as I got older. I’d fuck girls.” Jared shuddered at the memory. “I’d be on them, rutting between their thighs, but if I wanted to cum I’d have to imagine I was with a man. It eventually turned to anger as I got older. When I was fifteen it kinda exploded. I went to where the Armstrongs used to live. They were still there. I cased the joint for a bit. I didn’t really have a plan but knew I wanted to do something. One day I noticed the garage door was up. I went in. Grabbed a tire iron and slipped into the house. Curtis was asleep on the couch in the living room. I bashed his fucking brains in. I kept hitting him and hitting him until his skull was a jigsaw puzzle and his brains were strawberry jelly. I thought it was his blood that splashed on my face and it was but there were also tears. I hadn’t even realized I had been crying. That sick fuck was dead and knowing he couldn’t hurt anyone the way he hurt me was so satisfying.” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared realizes he feels a bit lighter after confiding in Jensen. Maybe he would eventually be able to tell Jensen about the two years he sold his body. He just doesn’t want Jensen to think less of him. </i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jared held up the tooth he had extracted with a critical eye. “Looks like a little cavity there. Might wanna see your dentist once all this is over.”</p>
<p>Pileggi sobs. Runnels of blood leak from between his gasping lips, viscous and bright. </p>
<p>There was a buzz at the door. Jared scowled and turned away from his subject. He opened the door and was greeted by Stevie Guitar.</p>
<p>“Mr. Padalecki, sir,” There again was that deference Jared was not used to. He played pool and poker with these men but now he was their leader, their boss, it was disorientating. Jared wondered if maybe that deference and Jared’s lack thereof from the beginning—he treated Jensen with respect, of course, but he also treated him like any other guy—was what attracted Jensen to him. </p>
<p>“I am very sorry to interrupt, but we found Mr. Ackles’s cell phone. It was firmly in Marchesi controlled territory with blood on it and around it. In addition, Aldis said one of the locations that pinged on Mr. Ackles’s GPS was related to the Colombians.”</p>
<p>“Italians and Colombians?” Jared asks flummoxed. Jared knew the Ackles Organization and the Italian mob had a peace between them extending back to when Jensen’s mother had been kidnapped and Alan had appealed to the Marchesi’s for help. Family was everything to the Italians and they had stepped in and helped retrieve Donna. Had the Italians broken a decades old peace? And to what end? It didn’t feel right to Jared. It felt like misdirection, but he would be damned if he ignored any possible lead. Jensen had no direct dealings with Colombian drug lords. Mad Mike Rosenbaum dealt with them and relayed anything of import back to Jensen. </p>
<p>“Run ‘em down. Tommy Blue has dealt with the Italians a time or two in business matters. Have him check with his contacts and see what they say. Bring in Mad Mike to check out this Colombian shit.” Jared rakes and hand through his hair and winces. The bloody rubber glove pulls. “None of this feels right.”</p>
<p>“Agreed,” Stevie Guitar replies. “It’s a wild goose chase.”</p>
<p>“It is but check ‘em out just the same. Get back to me with the intel.”</p>
<p>Stevie Guitar bowed his head and stepped back. “Yes, sir.”</p>
<p>Jared closed the door and turned back to his subject who was blubbering; liquid gurgles interspersed with unintelligible words. </p>
<p>“Is it me?” Jared asks thoughtfully. “Maybe I’m asking the wrong questions. I believe you when you say you don’t know <i>where</i> Jensen is.”  He removes the retractor from Pileggi’s mutilated mouth. Hey, Jared never went to dental school, but he tried his best here. “I’ll bet dollars to doughnuts you know <i>who</i> has him.” Jared eschews the dental tools for a good ol’ scalpel. He holds it in Pileggi’s line of sight, the light winks off the blade, so pretty and sharp. “So, I’ll ask once, nicely, who did you sell Jensen to?”</p>
<p>The spark of guilt in Pileggi’s pain-shrouded eyes let Jared know he’s on the right track. Yeah, this motherfucker sold Jensen out to someone. “Why? Jensen has been good to you. Alan was good to you, too.”</p>
<p>Pileggi spits; blood and saliva splashes against the plastic shield. “That asshole gave all you young faggot punks a chance but never me!  I’d been here for decades but the old fuck and the pretty fag boy just wanted me to haul their asses around. Even you! And who are you?” He rakes his eyes disdainfully over Jared. Pain seems to have been eclipsed by anger for now. “Just another young faggot punk! Pretty Jenny always talks about loyalty. But where did my loyalty get me? Nowhere! I was overlooked, so yeah, I looked for someone who would appreciate me.” </p>
<p>“Your loyalty got you a cushy job as chauffeur and a fucking well paid one at that. If Alan and Jensen didn’t see worth in you beyond that, that’s because there was none.” </p>
<p>“Fuck you. He may think I’m no one but a damn chauffeur, but I see shit. I see that you and Pretty Jenny are fucking. If I’d known all I had’a do to move up the ladder was bang the boss I’d tried years ago. That big fucker with the black hair fuck Jenny, too? What’s the matter? Your cock not big enough for that slut?”</p>
<p>Red fills Jared’s vision. Fury pounds through him like a stallion at the Kentucky Derby but he cannot act rashly. Pileggi is talking now and Jared will not stop him no matter what he hears. He’s not gonna let him run his mouth about his man for too much longer. Time is fucking wasting.  He moves to the end of the embalming table, pats Pileggi’s booted foot amiably before plucking at the laces. </p>
<p>“What…what’re you doin’?” His voice lost that spiteful tone as fear crept back in, wary eyes following Jared. </p>
<p>“Me?  Oh, nothing,” Jared says glibly. “It’s warm in here isn’t it?  These boots are awful heavy. Your feet must be sweltering.” Jared gets a boot unlaced and tugs it off. The sweat-soaked sock soon follows. He gently caresses the bottom of his big foot with the scalpel. It twitches and jerks as Jared moves to the heel and then up to the thick tendon. Pileggi’s breathing picks up and Jared presses the blade hard against the tendon.</p>
<p>“If you wanna walk without a limp again you tell me now: who has Jensen?”</p>
<p>“It was Misha! Misha Collins! He said he’d make me one of the top guys in his organization if I helped him! I just wanted something more.” Pileggi pathetically sobs. “You’ll lemme go now, right? I told you everything.” </p>
<p>“Sure. I’ll let you go.” He smiles his dimpled charming smile then plunges the scalpel deep into the side of Pileggi’s neck and twists. “Straight to hell!”  He hollers. </p>
<p>Pileggi’s heavy body bucks as blood gouts from the gash in thick crimson spurts with his racing heart. His bound hands flex and move as if to try and stem the flow of his lifeblood. Pileggi gags and gasps gurgling cries, eyes searching about frantically. There is no savior, no mercy, to be had here, just the waiting arms of Death. </p>
<p>Jared turns from the dying man, throws the scalpel down, and rips off his apron. He strides to the door and throws it open. Outside the Inner Circle guys are all ready and waiting to be of service. They gaze at him with a new esteem, a different kind of respect. It comes over Jared in a flood. <i>This</i> is how they look at Jensen, how they treat him, as a friend but also at a distance. That realization is compounded with the fact that they now regard <i>Jared</i> as the Big Boss Man in Jensen’s absence. When Jensen had named Jared as his Second in Command and successor in the event of his death or retirement, it had always seemed an abstract idea to Jared, being in charge. There was no doubt about it now, he was in charge.</p>
<p>“Misha fucking Collins has him,” Jared growls. “You guys are Jensen’s most trusted, I know you have your own rackets to run, but getting Jensen back has to be our priority.”</p>
<p>The four men nod, faces grave. “Little J—,” Kane pauses, corrects himself. “Jared, the guys that work under us are all loyal to us, to Jensen. They can handle the rackets while we concentrate on this.”</p>
<p>“Anyone else know Jensen is missing?” Jared asks.</p>
<p>“No, sir,” Stevie says. </p>
<p>“I’m a fucking criminal, all my life,” Jared says. “I know jack shit about running Jensen’s legitimate business.”</p>
<p>“Jared, I can act in Jensen’s stead with regard to Ackles Enterprises,” Tommy Blue says. “I earned my MBA and I’m already COO and President. You can trust that everything will be okay while you are working to find Jensen.” </p>
<p>Jared feels heartened. “Bring me that fucking sonofabitch bastard. I want you to round up anyone and everyone in Collins’ gang and interrogate them.” Jared dismissed them with an upward nod of his head. As they leave Jared pulls out his phone and dials up the Organization’s hackers, Aldis Hodge and Chad Lindberg. </p>
<p>“Hey, Little Jay,” Aldis greets cheerily after a couple of rings. </p>
<p>“Aldis, I got some work for you. All very confidential and of extreme importance.”</p>
<p>“Sir?” Aldis’ voice lost that cheerfulness. </p>
<p>“Jensen has been taken by some wannabe mob headed by Misha Collins. I need you to find out everything you can. Anything he might have his fingers in, any properties he might have, where his money comes from, where it goes. Anything and everything about that motherfucker.”</p>
<p>“On it, Boss,” Aldis says and Jared can already hear him clicking away on keyboards. </p>
<p>“Aldis, I don’t need to tell you that Jensen’s disappearance goes no further than you and Lindberg.”</p>
<p>“No, sir, you don’t. We got this.”</p>
<p>“I want regular updates,” Jared says before ending the call. </p>
<p>At a loss for what else to do now but wait for his men to get back to him, Jared heads outside. The sun blasts him like a furnace. He gazes around and observes Petey sitting in his ’65 Mustang chowin’ down on a burger. Jared crosses the dooryard and joins him. </p>
<p>“Hey ya, Kid,” Petey greets as Jared folds himself into the car. “How aah ya?” He motions for Jared to help himself to the greasy Whataburger bag and Starbucks coffee. </p>
<p>“I’m fuckin’ tired, Petey.”</p>
<p>“You need to get some sleep.”</p>
<p>Jared sighs as he unwraps a burger. “How can I? I need to be <i>doing</i> something.” He takes a huge bite and chews mechanically but tastes nothing. He’ll need strength and for that he needs to eat. He’s much more interested in the venti coffee.</p>
<p>Pete takes another huge bite. “Ya have been,” he says through a mouthful of burger. “Ya got Pileggi to spill his guts.”</p>
<p>He had but it seemed to have taken a very long time. Now it was going to take even longer to run down Collins. Jared takes a gulp of his coffee. “Can you believe all this shit is because of that fucker Misha Collins?” Jared asks.</p>
<p>“Naw. He nevah seemed smaaht enough to run his own racket. That he only did well because shit had already been established by Jensen’s family befoah him. But I’d bet he neva felt that way. Self impoahtant.”</p>
<p>Jared nods. He finishes off the coffee and goes for another one. “When I get my fuckin’ hands on him…” Jared trails off, already envisioning all the delightful ways he will interrogate the bastard. Jared slouches down in the seat, tilts his head back, and closes his tired eyes. “’S weird,” he slurs.</p>
<p>“What?” Pete inquires, taking the hot cup of coffee from Jared’s relaxing grip. </p>
<p>“The guys. They’re actin’ like ‘m Jensen. ‘M not the Big Boss Man. Nev’r wan’ed t’ be,” Jared murmurs before dropping off to sleep.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <i>“Hey’a, Little,” Kane says blue eyes regarding Jared with suspicion. “I know you’re new to the Compound, but this whole floor is Jensen’s private living space and is off limits, even to us Inner Circle guys without his permission. He know you’re up here?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared suppresses the smirk. He has Jensen’s permission all right. He’s fucked Jensen on the pool table a few times now. “Yeah. Big Boss Man said it’d be alright for me to play pool if I wanted. It’s a gorgeous table.” What he doesn’t say, will never say, is how beautiful Jensen looked bent over it while Jared feasted on his ass. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Kane nods and comes fully into the games room. “It is. I’ve been friends with Jensen since college. Kinda take things a bit for granted now. You play much?”  Kane takes up a cue.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Oh yeah. Hustlin’ pool is how I kept my belly full growing up.” Not exactly a lie but not the whole truth either.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Kane grins and puts the cue back. “I don’t feel like getting my ass handed to me by a kid tonight. Anyway, it’s our poker night.” Kane crosses to the round mahogany poker table in the corner.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Our?” Jared asks.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Me, Stevie, Lazy Jase, and Tommy. You’re Inner Circle now, so, how ‘bout it, Little?  Deal ya in for a hand? Ante starts at five hundred. We play for real money, though,” Kane cautioned.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Is Jensen going to join us?” Jared asks approaching the table. The mahogany wood was glossy, the table top was dark leather with tooling around the edges. The pedestal was heavily hand-carved with a vine pattern. There were brass cup holders and chip racks. There were five leather high backed chairs that matched the table top. It was an exquisite piece of furniture. Not that that should surprise Jared but somehow it still did. He felt he would always be the broke kid from the streets, never used to the finery he was now surrounded by.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Doubt it. He was headed to the library when I came up.” Jared had sent Petey up there when he said he wanted something to read. He hoped he hadn’t got his friend in trouble. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Hey! Oh, we got some new blood?” Stevie Guitar says as he enters the room.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Fucking sharks are circlin’,” Lazy Jase says sauntering in after him.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Hey, Little,” Tommy Blue greets, slapping him on the back and eyeing him up and down. “Maybe not. He’s got about an inch on me.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You know that how?” Kane says opening a fresh pack of cards and beginning to expertly shuffle them. “Take your cock out, Little, Tommy Blue, and lets measure.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Oh fuck you, Kane,” Tommy says taking a seat at the table.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’m flattered, really, but I don’t swing that way. Thought you were fuckin’ Mad Mike?” Kane counters.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Don’t presume,” Stevie says sitting down. “Mad Mike could be fuckin’ him.” The four men laugh.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared stands there awkwardly, feeling like an interloper. These men have been friends for years, they are important to Jensen and Jared wants them to like him. More importantly, he wants their respect and to be included. Just because Jensen has brought him, and Petey, into his Inner Circle doesn’t mean that they will automatically accept them. Jared hasn’t been to school since he was nine so his socialization is really kind of crap. He can imitate the behaviors of others and has a certain degree of surface charm when he needs it but to be included with these men will take more than that. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You gonna play pool, Little, or you wanna play a hand with us?” Kane asks.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’ll play,” Jared says approaching the poker table somewhat timidly. “If you’re sure it’s okay. I don’t wanna intrude.” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“C’mon, Little, sit your skinny ass down,” Kane says.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’m lean, not skinny,” Jared retorts and takes the one empty seat at the table. “There is a difference. And don’t be checking out my ass, shorty.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The four men exchange stunned looks. For a second Jared thinks he has crossed some invisible barrier, made some unforgivable faux pas. He was weighing the thought of apologizing and beating a hasty retreat when Kane speaks.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Oh, fuck off you lanky ass motherfucker. You, Big Pete, Tommy Blue, fuck, even Jensen are fucking giants, and you all can suck my fat cock,” Kane says scowling as he slaps down the cards. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Tommy Blue, Lazy Jase, and Stevie Guitar all explode into a riot of laughter and Jared allows himself to relax. </i>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <i>It became a regular thing, Jared would play poker, pool, or darts a couple of times a month with the other IC guys. They all filter into the games room at ten or ten-thirty, and ice cold beers were cracked open. Not for Jared however, he never drank anything as common as beer. He had a bottle of 15 year old Glenfiddich and heavy crystal tumbler beside him and was lighting a Cuban cigar as the other IC members strolled in for their evening of male-bonding. Cards were dealt and bets were made and the shit-talking began then settled into more familiar conversation and a little gossiping. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Where did Jensen spirit away to last night?” Stevie Guitar asked tossing in his ante.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The previous evening had been a Date Night of sorts for Jensen and Jared. They had gone to Fearing’s and had an exquisite meal. Then come back to the Compound and had exquisite sex. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Why do you even fuckin’ ask?” Kane said glancing at his cards. “Two.” He discarded and Jared dealt him two new cards. “Little Jay is like a fuckin’ Sphinx. Sees everything tells nothing. Why y’all think Jensen takes Jay with ‘im?”  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Because I don’t gossip like you nosy bastards,” Jared imparted. He drew on his cigar and exhaled the smoke. “I fuckin’ swear sometimes playin’ with you guys is little more than an old biddy’s sewing circle.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>This drew jeers from his companions; beer bottle caps and pretzels, corn chips or other snacks were tossed at him.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You are no fun, Little Jay,” Lazy Jase said.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Yeah, tell us a little about the man Jensen’s seeing. What’s he look like?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Why are you assuming it’s just one man?” Tommy asks. “Three.” He discards and Jared deals him three new cards. “Jensen is a handsome man, rich as Croesus, and still reasonably young. He may be seeing a few guys. I think if Jensen ever got serious he’d move his man here to the Compound. Jensen knows this is the safest place. He’d want his partner here.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You and Mike still in the Honeymoon phase of your relationship?” Jared asked deftly shifting attention away from Jensen’s love life. “He decorating that little house all pretty for you?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Can it really be called a Honeymoon phase when Mikey and I have been off and on for years now?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Well, you’re definitely on now,” Stevie says. “Shackin’ up together.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Livin’ in sin!” Jared crows. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I thought you were better than that, Tommy,” Kane says seriously. “Better make an honest man outta Mike.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You guys are such shits,” Tommy Blue says, color rising in his cheeks.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“What about you, Little Jay? You got some sweet thing tucked away somewhere?” Lazy Jase asks.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Please, look at him,” Stevie says. “He’s a fucking sex god with that body and that mane. ‘Course he’s got some hot little number stashed away at some penthouse somewhere. Probably a big-titted blonde with legs up to her chin and an ass like a peach.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared smiles enigmatically as he looks at his cards. He has a tall blond with an ass like a peach, no doubt. He glances at the Philippe Patek watch on his wrist that Jensen gave him for their anniversary; twelve years now. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Looka that shit-eating grin,” Kane says. “He’s got a sweet little piece alright. What she look like?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“That motherfucker ain’t gonna tell shit,” Stevie Guitar says tossing a couple of chips into the pot. “Raise. He’s like Jensen that way. Keeps his shit private. Can’t fault ‘im on that.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Ever think Jensen’ll ever get married?” Tommy says. “Now it’s legal and all?” He lays his cards down.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared’s heart thuds in his chest. Gay marriage became the law of the land a few months ago. It wasn’t anything Jared had ever considered before, but to be married to Jensen, to belong to each other forever in a concrete, legal way, was so fucking seductive.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Doubt it,” Kane says. “That shit with his mom when he was little left a stain on him. It’s why he don’t ever talk about his relationships. He and his man can have a private ceremony but marriage licenses are public record. If Jensen tied the knot with his fella the press would be all over it. Everybody would want to know who finally nabbed Dallas’ three-time Most Eligible Bachelor. Jensen don’t want that kind of attention. His fella might not want it either.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“There are such things as confidential marriage licenses.” Lazy Jace says. “Raise,” he tosses in another couple of green chips.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Not in Texas,” Stevie says. “Fold.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared tosses in five chips. “Raise. Call. And I don’t think we should be talking about the Big Boss Man’s private life behind his back.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The others laugh. “We’d talk about it in front of him if the bastard would deign to play with us but he likes to have his book club with Big Pete.” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared was glad Jensen and Pete had become friends. Pete was a deep thinker. He needed someone he could talk about literary symbolism and shit with. Jared considered himself smart and well-read, but that would never be him. To him a great white whale was just a fucking whale, not a symbol of self fulfilling prophesy or something and blue wallpaper was never going to be a symbol of the protagonists depression. It was just wallpaper.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared slaps down his hand of cards. “Four of a kind!  Pay the fuck up, assholes!” He shouts in victory. </i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was wrong to be in their room, their <i>bed</i>, alone. He knows Petey is right. Jared needs sleep. The little cat nap he grabbed in the car didn’t do any good, all that did was make him realize how tired he really was and knot up the muscles in his back and neck. The guys were doing everything, running down any lead, however remote. Legwork had never been his specialty anyway; hits and interrogations were what he dealt in. All he could do right now was sleep. Feeling lost, Jared trudges over to the walk-in closet. He grabs one of Jensen’s Burberry shirts. He strips out of his clothes and puts on Jensen’s shirt. Then he goes over to the bed and faceplants into Jensen’s pillow, breathing in the well-loved and familiar scent of his cologne and shampoo. His heart aches as he falls asleep.</p>
<p>
  <i>It always awed Jared how Jensen so easily surrendered to him. Jensen was bent over the bed, his arms bound behind his back with soft black rope in a maze of knots and  wrapped tight from wrists all the way up to his shoulders. The dark rope was gorgeous against Jensen’s pale freckled skin. Jared wished they had a spreader bar, but other than dildos and vibrators they weren’t much for toys or other equipment. Jared’s power, Jensen’s surrender, was what they used instead and it was more intoxicating. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He thrust deep into Jensen, his baby so tight around him. Jared couldn’t hold on anymore and slammed home one final time before emptying inside the man he loved. He collapsed atop Jensen, but didn’t stay. He had been tied for a good while now. Jared needed to free him, give him a nice massage and cuddle him. Jared pulled out and his cum flooded out of Jensen’s abused hole and trickled down his creamy muscled thighs. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared goes to untie the knots, undoing his handiwork. His brows come together in a puzzled frown. Jensen wasn’t moving. Something was wrong. Jared’s heart pounded out of control and icy fear replaced the lazy warm afterglow. He grasped Jensen’s shoulder and turned him over. Jensen’s green eyes were blank and glazed, but somehow accusatory, his mouth hung open and slack. He was dead. His love was dead!  Jared couldn’t be seeing what he thought he was. He blinked hard but when he opened his eyes once more the vision was worse, so much worse. Jensen was a decaying corpse on the bed, skin rotted away, eyes gone, just empty dark holes. Jared threw back his head and screamed. </i>
</p>
<p>Jared jackknifed up in the bed, eyes wide and staring. His heart thudding against his ribs so hard it hurt. A nightmare. Just a horrific nightmare. Jensen wasn’t dead and rotting. He was asleep beside him in bed. Jared exhales and turns, Jensen’s name on his lips. It hits him again. Jensen had been kidnapped by Misha or under Misha’s orders four days ago. His throat closes up on a scream. His eyes sting and blur as tears spill from his eyes. </p>
<p>What the fuck was he doing in bed, <i>sleeping</i> when Jensen was god knew where with god knew what being done to him. Jared bolts out of bed. The clock indicates Jared had only been asleep for three hours. More than enough.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Some Kind of Monster</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>3 – Some Kind of Monster </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <i>Jared did not like Misha Collins, but grudgingly had to admit he ran a clean racket. One point in his favor was he was not a child-trafficking scumbag like Jared’s former pimp Kurt Fuller. All the guys and girls that worked for Misha were twenty and over, they got to keep a large part of their earnings and were not punished if they didn’t pull down a certain amount a night. They didn’t walk around in a drug-induced cloud. As clean has the rackets were run Jared will always associate them with Fuller. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared is no shrink by any means, but he is smart enough to realize that his issues with Misha Collins, and prostitution rackets in general, go back to Kurt Fuller. Hell, probably even further than that to Curtis Armstrong fiddling with him. He had been so little, lonely, and confused—weak—and Armstrong had preyed on him. Then again at sixteen Jared had once more found himself lost and alone, so much like the orphaned ten year old, and again someone had preyed on him. Jared should have known better, shouldn’t have been so weak and that he had been brought shame. He has tried very hard to move past what he did and be a stronger man because of it. When Collins is around, Jared can’t help but be reminded of the broken child he used to be and even maybe still is. Jared’s just thankful he doesn’t have to come in contact with the pimp very often.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Over the years Jared thought about confiding to Jensen about his past. He already told Jensen about Curtis Armstrong grooming him and attempting to molest him. Jensen had been nothing but sweetness and understanding. The idea of telling him about Fuller, how he allowed himself to be taken advantage of fills him with shame. He was Jensen’s Second in Command, the fucking successor to his empire, and he had been so weak and pathetic. Jensen may think less of him, may sour his love like milk left out in the heat of summer. He doesn’t want to do anything that would risk losing Jensen’s love and respect. He resolves to never tell him about that dark time in his life. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Never” ends up being six years. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>In the dark, in the middle of the night, with Jensen feigning sleep in his arms, Jared spills his guts about his past as a whore. Jensen doesn’t stir, doesn’t comfort or offer platitudes. After his tale is told, Jensen knows him more completely than anyone ever has in his life, Petey included. It’s terrifying, but he knows he is safe with Jensen. Jensen will guard his heart, keep his secrets; help him carry the pain and move past the shame. Before returning to his own room just before dawn, he asks, begs, Jensen to pull the Ackles Organization out of the skin trade. He doesn’t expect Jensen to, Jared understands the prost rackets generate a lot of money for the Organization but Jensen does. His love and adoration for Jensen transform into something akin to worship when Jensen goes one step further. </i>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <i>One evening, Jensen enters his bedroom—their bedroom really—with an enigmatic smile tugging at that sweet mouth, and a small box in his hands. Jared is puzzled but intrigued. Jensen had gone away on business for a few days and insisted that Jared not accompany him, there was a job that he needed to take care of personally. Looking at the box in Jensen’s hand Jared wonders if Jensen might possibly be about to propose to him. The idea makes his stomach flutter and heart leap.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“It’s not my birthday and it’s too early for Christmas,” Jared, says taking the box. By its size and weight it is definitely a ring box. When he opens it nothing prepares him for what it contains. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The big gold pinky ring with the fat obnoxious ruby in the center, so like its owner. This belonged to Kurt Fuller. He could be blind and still recognize this ring. His heart pounds and he feels vaguely panicky. Jensen got this ring. Jared knows what “business” Jensen had been away on. His man had sought out that slimy fuck Fuller and had…. He swallows hard. He knows Jensen is a tough son of a bitch, that he used to do hits and interrogations for the Organization while his father was still running things. Jensen hunted Fuller down and killed him for taking advantage of Jared. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I told you anything and I always keep my word.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared dropped the box and lunged at Jensen, pressing his mouth hard onto Jensen’s, tongue invading that hot plush mouth. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Thank you. Thank you. I love you. So fuckin’ much,” Jared pants between kisses as he backs Jensen toward the bed. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I took good care of him, Jare. Made him fuckin’ suffer,” Jensen growls. “My contacts in Dallas PD and the FBI will take care of his human trafficking ring.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared takes his mouth in another bruising kiss, pouring all his love and gratitude into the kiss. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I want you to fuck me,” Jared breathed against Jensen’s slick lips. He’s a little surprised he’s making the offer. He has never given his ass up willingly to anyone. But for Jensen he is willing to give him everything, every bit of himself. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Sir, I…” Jensen hesitates. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Are you going to disobey me, baby?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“No, Sir. Never. I just….” Jensen bows his head and his shoulders slump. “Cinnamon, Jared. Cinnamon.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jensen’s use of his safe word startles Jared. He and Jensen have done a lot of kinky things and Jensen has never said his word, told Jared ‘Ginger’ a few times but never called out for everything to stop. He had been sure Jensen would take what he’s offering. Jared sits on the edge of their bed, takes Jensen’s hand and tugs him down beside him. “What’s wrong?” Jared asks.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jensen pets Jared’s hand and gazes at him with warm earnest eyes. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” he begins. He licks his lips, seeming to search for words. “I just don’t want you to feel as though you have to because I killed Fuller for you. He was a sick fuck who deserved everything I did to him.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“He did,” Jared agrees. “And more no doubt. I love you, Jensen. You always give yourself up to me so completely; I should do the same, even if we decide it’s a special one-time thing. You mean everything to me so you should have everything.”</i>
</p>
<p><i>Color rose in Jensen’s cheeks but his eyes never waver from Jared’s, gazing deep into him and Jared does not look away. “If you are sure and aren’t doing it because you feel you </i>owe<i> me something, because you don’t, Jared.”</i></p>
<p>
  <i>“I know.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jensen nods. “Okay.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Okay. You ‘Mint’?” Jared asks if it’s okay to continue their scene using Jensen’s word.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Very.” </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared’s heart picks up, anticipation and nerves mix with burgeoning arousal. He leans in close, nuzzles his neck, inhales his scent. “You gonna rock your Sir’s world, baby? Gonna fuck this ass real good? I’m a big guy, so don’t worry you’re gonna break me.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Yes, Sir,” Jensen answers with a breathy moan.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>It’s the first and only time Jensen disobeys in the bedroom. He doesn’t fuck Jared and he isn’t rough with him either. He makes love to him, slow and sweet. It’s so different from the rough quick fucks with johns in dark alleys. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>When his cock breeches Jared for the first time he has a moment of panic, but Jensen coaxes him back to the here and now with gentle kisses and soft whispered words and reassurances. He expects it to hurt; Jensen isn’t a small man in any department, but he slides in easy as anything and moves with slow sensual sinuous rolls of his hips that hit Jared just right and have him gasping and clutching the man he loves. When he feels the heat of Jensen’s release inside him Jared feels…clean. Jensen owns every part of him now, mind, soul, and body and all three are absolutely safe with him. </i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fury and grim determination pulse through Jared as Kane and Peter haul Misha fucking Collins into the cell. He is so fucking ready to start in on this motherfucker. He <i>will</i> make him talk. Collins is little worse for the wear, some cuts and bruises but no significant damage. He’s also not pleading as Pileggi had done. Jared doesn’t think this guy is gonna crack as easily as Pileggi. That worries Jared. Collins is cagy enough to realize he has all the power here. He has Jensen. Jensen has already been missing six days. Jared took too long with Pileggi. That’s on him. He will not make the same mistake with Collins. </p>
<p>“Where is he?” Jared asks.</p>
<p>“Why should I tell you?” His voice is raspy but his intense blue gaze dances with malice and a touch of insanity. Jared recognizes that look. He can see it in his own eyes when he shaves each morning. </p>
<p>Jared nods; he’d expected that answer. “Hang ‘im up!” Jared orders turning on one heel and striding over to the cabinet where his heavy implements are kept. He wrenches open the cabinet door and doesn’t hesitate before grabbing the barbed wire wrapped baseball bat. The wire is rusty and caked with filth, almost assuring infection. </p>
<p>When he turns, Petey is locking the shackles suspended from a beam in the ceiling around Misha’s wrists. Kane is in the corner tugging on the rope that, through a series of pulleys, will keep Collins suspended. </p>
<p>Jared crosses back over to the hanging man. He presses the end of the bat to Collins’ chin, lifting his head up so their eyes meet. “One last time. Where is he?”</p>
<p>Collins grins. “Lake Titicaca.”</p>
<p>Jared swings the Louisville slugger like Babe fucking Ruth into Misha’s knee. Jared swears he can hear the meniscus tear, ligaments rip, and the kneecap explode. He rotates the bat, letting the dirty, rusty barbs sink deep into the flesh. Misha screams in agony and color floods his face. </p>
<p>“I think that pitch was a little outside. I’m gonna have to adjust my stance this time.”</p>
<p>Jared squares up in his best imitation of a major leaguer’s stance, wrenches the bat back, and swings again; this time like David Ortiz, pure fucking power. The barrel of the bat impacts with a meaty crunch to Misha’s unprotected side. The hanging man howls and jerks, the barbed wire deeply embedding into the thin skin covering his ribs. Jared yanks the bat free, rivulets of blood seep from many wounds, like Christ on the cross. </p>
<p>“That one was a little high,” Jared admonishes himself. “I gotta get my timing right.” Jared squares up like Ted Williams and swings, once more hitting the knee. Misha wails and hops, trying to keep weight off his mangled knee, but the height and way he is suspended won’t allow him to. </p>
<p> “Ooo!  I got all’a that one!  It’s outta the park!” Jared screams maniacally. He drops the bat, grabs a handful of Collins’ brown hair, and wrenches his head back. “Where is he?  Where is Jensen?”</p>
<p>Misha was breathing heavily but that sick motherfucker actually smiled up at Jared. “You’ll never find out.”</p>
<p>Jared snarled and hauled his fist back and slammed it into Misha’s arrogant face. </p>
<p>Again. </p>
<p>And again. </p>
<p>And again. </p>
<p>Peter and Kane charge forward to grab him and pull him off Collins. Jared’s knuckles are split and bleeding. Collins’s face is so much hamburger and that motherfucker is smiling through his split lips and broken teeth, blood trickles down his chin. </p>
<p>“Jared! Stop!” This from Kane.</p>
<p>“Calm down, Kid,” Petey said, big arm across Jared’s upper chest.</p>
<p>“I will make you talk,” Jared said, voice deadly soft and silky. </p>
<p>Collins’s eyes danced. “You…won’t,” he replied between panting breaths. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Though it is agony for him, Jared leaves Collins alone and trussed up. Jared wants infection to set in in the wounds he inflicted. </p>
<p>“Hey, Jared” Peter greets plopping a bag of take out in front of Jared. “You need’t eat.”</p>
<p>“’M fine.” Jared finishes off his coffee and peels the lid off another.</p>
<p>“You aahe not fine, Jay. I’ve neva seen ya less fine. When was the last time ya slept? Took a showah, changed ya clothes?”</p>
<p>Jared scowls. “Who are you? My fuckin’ father?”</p>
<p>Hurt flashes across Pete’s face. “No. But I am youah fuckin’ friend.” He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Trah to remembah that Mr. Ackles isn’t the only one that caahes for ya, and youah not the only one who caahes for him.” Pete says before walking away.</p>
<p>Guilt washes over him. He and Pete never fight. He snatches the bag of take out and rips it open. Inside are some boxes of Chinese. Jared takes up chopsticks and attempts to eat. He manages to shovel in some sweet and sour chicken before his mind revolts on him. What the fuck was he doing? Sitting here eating while Jensen was missing, while Jensen was probably not being fed, not given water. It’s all his damn fault, too. He should have obeyed that impulse to follow Jensen into the bathroom for a quick fuck. If Jared had done that, Jensen would never have been taken. Jared’s stomach roils and clenches. His throat opens and he vomits up what little he managed to force down. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <i>Jared climbs the stairs to the second floor, stomach a knot of worry. He and Petey have been friends for twenty years now. He doesn’t regret rushing to defend Jensen; he does however very much regret punching Petey in the throat. It had been instinct. Jensen had been in trouble and Jared had to act, take down the threat as quickly as possible. Jensen had assured Jared he was fine and he certainly seemed as cool as ever before ordering him from the office and to see how things stood between him and Petey. Jensen knew they were close and went way back and didn’t want to be a wedge between them. Jared would pick Jensen if it came to that, but he hoped he wouldn’t have to. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The first and most logical place to find Petey would be his room. Jared’s room, so far as everyone else is concerned is on this floor as well, but its really just a place to keep his clothes and shit. He does at least attempt to make it appear lived in, but really Jensen’s room on the third floor is his room as well. He passes bedrooms belonging to Kane, Stevie Guitar, Lazy Jase. Tommy Blue and Mad Mike finally got their shit together and had a little cottage on the Ackles compound that they shared. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared stopped in front of Petey’s room. He had never been so unsure of things between them. He gets it. Petey thinks Jensen is using his power and influence to make Jared perform sex acts on him. That couldn’t be further from the truth but Petey didn’t know. Jared had never told Petey he was gay.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He swallowed hard and knocked on Petey’s door. “What?” A harsh raspy voice drifts through the thick wood.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“’s me, Petey. Can I come in? Please?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>There’s a few beats of silence before Petey answered. “Yeah, come in heah ya little shit.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared smiles and sighs in relief. He and Petey will be just fine. He opens the door and Petey was laying back on his bed, a moleskine notebook in his lap. Petey likes to write poetry, mostly about death, sex, and romance. It’s really good stuff, deep and lyrical, but Petey thinks its shit. Even after two decades of friendship he’s still not sure when Petey is being serious or joking in that cynical self-deprecating way he does. Jared tends to think Petey puts down his writing so it won’t hurt if someone else does. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>There is a dark bruise on Petey’s throat and Jared is flooded with guilt. Had he hit Petey harder it could have killed him. Easily. “I’m sorry about that.” He motions to the big purple-black bruise on Petey’s throat. “You put your hands on Jensen and I saw red. You could have hurt him.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I thought he was huahtin you.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared nods and sits on the corner of Petey’s bed. “I get it, but it’s not like when I was working the streets. I’m gay, Petey. And Jensen and I are, you know, in love.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Petey’s face contracts like the idea of two men being in love is a foregin concept. It probably is to him.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared clears his throat and gathers his courage to ask the one question that the answer to had the potential to really wound him. “Are you…. Do you….” he struggles to keep his voice steady. “Do you hate me now?”</i>
</p>
<p><i>Petey’s thick black brows come together in a line across his broad forehead. His mouth turns down in a moue of distaste. “What? Jesus, Kid. </i>No<i>.”</i></p>
<p>
  <i>Jared feels a weight lift from his heart. Quiet descends between them and he looks around. He’s been in here a few times before. It’s decorated in shades of brown and green; nature shades. There are a couple of tall bookcases crammed with all kinds of books, history, philosophy, religion, science. There are big thick volumes with nature photographs and art. He has tasteful natural art prints hung on the walls; big sequoias and redwoods with rays of sunshine blasting through, a fiery sunset on cliffs and canyons. Jared thinks Petey would be happier working as a forest ranger or something similar. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>His room looks lived in, comfortable. Jared kinda hoped once they had a real true home, not just some dump or building to squat in, Petey would be happy. Jared is happy and as settled as he will ever be but not Petey. He still seems restless and dreary at times. It makes Jared hurt for his friend. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I don’t get it,” Petey says finally. “You don’t look like a queeah. Neitha does Mr. Ackles.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared’s not going to be offended. Petey’s language doesn’t come from a place of hate. He’s just puzzled and ignorant. “Petey, gays are just like everybody else. Nothing more to it than that. I love Jensen like you loved Elizabeth.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Petey flinched at the name. Jared hadn’t wanted to hurt him, only help him understand. “Well, I hope it doesn’t end foah you like it did foah me.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Another lengthy silence in which Jared thinks about the bitch who broke Petey’s heart. Petey is a good guy, sensitive and a romantic at heart. He deserves a good woman to love him. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“He…he uh…he make ya happy? Treat ya right?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared grins. Yeah, he and Petey are gonna be just fine. “Yeah.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“And he don’t make ya do nuthin’ you don’t wanna do, right?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared shakes his head, his grin widening. “No.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Petey nods. “All right then. It ain’t my business no how. But if anyone else says shit to you about bein’ queeah…” He raises a fist and slams it into his other palm. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jared laughs and rakes his fingers through his hair. “Thanks, Petey, but, you know, I’m in my 30’s now. I can take care of myself.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Petey looks off into the distance, his eyes become cloudy and melancholy the way they did sometimes. Jared didn’t understand it, but Petey was a deep-thinking kind of guy. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You can at that,” he says at last in a soft musing voice, like it just occurred to him that Jared isn’t that dirty scrawny ten year old anymore. He’s a full grown man, six foot five and two hundred twenty three pounds and has been in an exclusive loving relationship for the last ten years. It kinda surprised him too, now that he thought about it. </i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jared enters the cell. His subject’s head is bowed and he’s breathing heavily. Jared doubts Misha is asleep, he left instructions with the other IC members not to <i>allow</i> him to sleep. He could have passed out from the pain but Jared doubts that as well. He also left instructions for him to be roused in the event he did pass out. The only comfort Collins is given is water, and that is mainly to keep him alive, not from any goodness in Jared’s black heart.</p>
<p>“Good Morning, Misha,” Jared greets, finishing off his third cup of coffee in the last hour. He bends to inspect his handiwork. Misha’s right knee is swollen about three times its normal size and looks a very unpleasant color, a few of them actually. “That leg doesn’t look at all good does it?”</p>
<p>Collins raises his head. His eyes are dazed, awash with pain and his mouth hangs open. There is a flush to his face, indicating fever.</p>
<p>“I’m really a nice guy,” Jared begins. “Take your knee for instance. It’s in a bad bad way. The Ackles Organization has a doctor on call at all times. I’m sure you know. Doc Morgan. I’ve told him a little about your…accident. He says severe trauma like this could lead to gangrene. I dunno.” Jared shrugs. “Looks like gangrene to me.” Jared sniffs and detects an odor coming from the busted knee and open wounds caused by the barbed wire. “If left untreated it could lead to amputation.”</p>
<p>When Misha offers no reply Jared crosses over to the tool cabinet. He examines each item, weighs the pros and cons of each one before selecting the correct implement. </p>
<p>“I’m a big fan of Monty Python. Are you?”  Jared asks, moving to stand in front of Misha again. He holds the tool behind his back, gripping its wood handle so hard his knuckles whiten. “So many quotable lines. But my absolute favorite has to be the Lumberjack Song.” Jared brings the axe from behind his back, like a beau presenting his sweetheart with a bouquet of posies. “Tell me where Jensen is or I’m gonna take that leg and it won’t be funny like the Black Knight.”</p>
<p>For an instant fear flashes in those pain-shrouded eyes when he sees the ax and realizes what use Jared will put it to. Misha swallows thickly, eyes on the heavy and lethally sharp ax head, and Jared thinks that he’s won, that Collins is going to cave and cough up Jensen’s location. </p>
<p>“’I-…It…its ju—just a f-f-flesh wound’.”</p>
<p>Jared swings the ax.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jared enters the cell. Every time he enters this godforsaken room dread and doom weigh heavy on his heart. Collins has been in his loving care for three days and he is making no progress toward getting Misha to talk. Jared is deathly afraid that Collins will be true to his word and <i>never</i> talk. </p>
<p>Collins still hangs, or rather <i>most</i> of him is still hanging, suspended from shackles in the center of the room. He is missing his right leg just above the knee. After amputating it with the ax, Jared had been kind enough to cauterize the stump and have it bandaged. The acrid smell of burning flesh still lingers in the room.</p>
<p>Petey and Kane follow Jared inside. “Put him on the table,” Jared orders. He walks over to the table containing his kit of smaller tools. “I’m done fucking around.”</p>
<p>Collins makes little whimpering noises as Kane lowers him and Pete removes the shackles. Pete easily lifts Jared’s subject onto the table and Kane straps him down. </p>
<p>“If you weahe as smaaht as you think you aah, you’d talk,” Peter advises Collins.</p>
<p>Jared dismisses them with a nod. </p>
<p>When the door closes behind them, Jared pulls the wheeled table with his tools on it close to the embalming table. Jared inspects the straps securing Misha’s hands. Jared observes the vainly clean and manicured nails. </p>
<p>“Where is he?”</p>
<p>Unbelievably Collins begins to chuckle a watery mad chuckle that makes the hair from the nape of Jared’s neck to the crack of his ass raise. “I-I-I’m…n-n-not tel-telling y-you.”</p>
<p>Jared struggles to hold in his anger. He occupies himself with heating the sharp metal skewers instead. “I could kill you,” Jared says conversationally. </p>
<p>“You-you won’t. Ca-can’t.” He laughs again and the sound of if, the mad quality in it hurts Jared’s ears and heart. He absolutely believes Collins will never talk. </p>
<p><i>No</i>. He can’t let himself believe that. He cannot give in to despair. Jensen, wherever he is, is depending on Jared. He will not let him down.</p>
<p>Jared takes one of the skewers, holds it in front of Misha’s eyes. “Ar-are you mak-making shi-shish kab-kabob?” </p>
<p>Jared shakes his head. He grips Misha’s right hand hard and holds it. He drives the skewer under the nail of Misha’s index finger. Misha goes wild screaming and bucking on the table. His hand tries to flex but Jared keeps his grip like steel.</p>
<p>“WHERE IS HE?”  Jared shouts over Misha’s screams, pivoting the skewer to the right and left while shoving the searingly hot needle point deeper under the nail. </p>
<p>“Never Never Land!” Misha howls.</p>
<p>Jared grabs the pliers and tears off the loosened nail.</p>
<p>Ten times Jared asks and ten times Collins gives some smart aleck answer: Bowlegs, Texas. Sweetlips, Tennessee. Bacon, Indiana. After each answer Jared rips off a fingernail. By the time he has removed them all, Collins has no voice with which to scream, just hoarse grunts and groans escape his open mouth and Jared is exhausted and utterly defeated.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jared scrubs his hands over his face. Christ, he’s so fucking tired. He guzzles coffee by the gallon but it does nothing to help him stay awake. He cannot fall asleep. If he does he knows what he will dream if he does. He tugs out his phone and presses Mad Mike on his contacts. While Tommy Blue takes care of the legitimate businesses Mike has more or less taken his place in the IC. He had done some interrogations and gotten some locations and names that the others were running down. Jared didn’t think they would come to anything. Each goon they interrogate all tell a different story. It’s all muddled and confused. Jared can’t decide if Collins has done it by design or he is so inept at running a mob of his own. </p>
<p>“This Mike.” Mike answers after two rings.</p>
<p>“Jared. I need your help. Get to The Ranch ASAP.” He hangs up. </p>
<p>Mike pulls up to the Ranch in his Boxster fifteen minutes later. “Here as requested, sir,” he says snapping a little military salute. Jared likes Mike. He straddles the fine line between respectful but relaxed. When they get Jensen back he will ask his love why Mike isn’t a member of the Inner Circle. </p>
<p>Jared cuts right to the chase. “Got any blow on you?”</p>
<p>Mike’s brows came together briefly before his expression smoothes out. “Not this second. I can lay hands on some pretty quick though. Not to be nosy, but what do you want it for?” </p>
<p>“I need to fucking stay awake,” Jared snaps. Each day Jensen was missing and every second Collins refused to talk was agony. He almost regretted killing Pileggi. At least if he was alive Jared could take out his frustrations on him instead of his friends.</p>
<p>“I got ya, Jay,” Mike says soothingly. “I can help. Gimme a bit and I’ll be back with the really good shit.”  </p>
<p>He was back in half an hour. He handed Jared three little white balloons. “Direct from Colombia. Hasn’t even been cut with anything yet. Be careful. You never struck me as a user, so take it easy. Mr. Ackles would have my balls for earrings if you OD on that.”</p>
<p>Jared’s heart clenches at the mention of Jensen. He opens one of the balloons, takes a pinch of the white powder and snorts up. His heart takes off like a racehorse after the starting pistol. Synapses fire in his brain like lightning bringing with it a renewed energy and confidence. He was gonna make that motherfucker talk. He claps Mike on the shoulder, and sniffs as liquid drips down his throat. </p>
<p>“Thanks.” He heads back into the cell and to his subject. Let’s just see if that masochistic motherfucker would still be smiling after Jared busts his teeth out with a hammer. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jared maneuvers Jensen’s sleek BMW through downtown Dallas, on his way to AckTek, the software development firm under the Ackles Enterprises umbrella. He hasn’t received any updates from Aldis Hodge or Chad Lindberg since he set them to the task of tracing Misha Collins’s digital footprints. He fuckin’ told them he wanted regular check-ins and that’s what he fucking meant. Now he’s gotta take quality time away from playing with Misha to get an in-person update. Fuckers. </p>
<p>Jared grips the leather steering wheel and guns the powerful engine, the acceleration barely noticeable except for the needle on the speedometer ticking closer to eighty-five.</p>
<p>“Ya need t’ slow down, Jay,” Peter cautions from the passenger seat. </p>
<p>“Shut the fuck up, Pete.”</p>
<p>Jared squeals to a stop in front of the Ackles Enterprises building. He shoves open the door and bolts out. He pushes through the revolving door and slams his thumb into the call button. No one questions Jared or Peter’s presence at the skyscraper. Both have been here many times, familiar fixtures at Jensen’s side. Aldis and Lindberg have an upper floor to themselves. When not taking care of Organization business, they occasionally write software programs. </p>
<p>“Jared,” Petey says standing beside him as he twitches from foot to foot. That fucking elevator needs to hurry.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“I’m sure if they had anythin’ t’ repoaht they would.”</p>
<p>The elevator opens and Jared barrels in. Peter follows on his heels. </p>
<p>“Pete,” Jared sighs. “I have to be doing <i>something</i> because every second I’m not is another second Jensen gets closer to dying. <i>Dying</i>, Peter!”</p>
<p>“He is not gonna die, Kid.”</p>
<p>“You keep saying that but if we don’t find him he <i>will</i>. I know Jensen is tough but he is human and a human can only endure so much.”</p>
<p>Pete looks like he wants to say something but Jared does not want to hear it. He can take no more empty reassurances. </p>
<p>The elevator door opens and Jared charges through and down the hall. He bursts into the office that Aldis and Lindberg share. It’s lit only with the light coming from their array of computer monitors encircling them. The two men start and turn, halfway out of their chairs. Aldis is already reaching for his gun. He stops when he sees who it is. Aldis is a handsome black man with big brown eyes, lanky build and height which rivals Jared’s own. Chad Lindberg is pretty much his opposite: pasty white and blond with a small wiry stature. Both are the best at what they do and really chill guys. Under normal circumstances, Jared likes them well enough but right now Jared doesn’t fucking like <i>anyone</i>.<br/>.<br/>“Why the fuck haven’t you been checking in?” Jared shouts.</p>
<p>“Sir—“</p>
<p>“No! Answer the fucking question!  I gave you an order. You check in!”</p>
<p>“We have nothing of significance to report and rather than waste your time—“ </p>
<p>“Nothing to report? It’s been eight days!  What fucking good are you if you can’t figure this shit out!” Jared rails at the two hackers. “A hundred grand worth of state-of-the-art computer equipment and you can’t find shit out! Useless! That’s what you are!”</p>
<p>“Jared,” Pete begins, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Jared shrugs him off. </p>
<p>“Mr. Padalecki,” Aldis says, voice placating. “We <i>are</i> finding things out. That’s the problem. There is a long and involved paper trail going on. Shell companies in shell companies and trusts in trusts, like a giant Russian nesting doll. It’s going to take time to cut through it all and we <i>will</i>. He’s trying to hide shit but nobody can hide anything where we can’t find it.”</p>
<p>Jared wants to wail. Time isn’t a luxury they have anymore. Jensen fucking needs him. And Jared needs his people to fucking help him!  </p>
<p>“C’mon, Kid.” Peter wraps an arm across Jared’s shoulders and chest and forcibly pulls him from the room. “Keep doin’ what youah doin’ guys. And thanks,” Peter says to Aldis and Lindberg.</p>
<p>Outside the computer room, Peter grips Jared’s shoulders, stares down at him. “They didn’t ask for that, Jared,” Peter says sounding disappointed in him. At any other time that would hurt Jared. “Theyah doin’ the best they can. We all aahe. How long has it been since you slept? Ate? All I seen ya doin’ is drinking coffee or shovin’ that shit up ya nose.”</p>
<p>Jared scoffs. He didn’t understand. The blind panic he’s been living with keeps escalating. He chopped Misha’s leg off at the knee, pried off his fingernails, bashed his teeth in, and <i>nothing</i> is working. That motherfucker was not going to talk and Jensen was going to <i>die</i>. He was going to die and it would be Jared’s fault. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jared arrives at The Ranch on the ninth day after Jensen’s abduction. Peter, ever his shadow, is with him. He has one goal in mind. He is <i>going</i> to break that motherfucker and make him talk. Jared pauses outside of Misha’s cell to snort up. He’ll need all the energy he can get for what he has planned today.</p>
<p>“Jared, be careful with that shit,” Kane says from the door where he has been on duty.</p>
<p>“Mind your own fuckin’ business,” Jared barks. “He said anything?” Jared indicates the cell and Collins’ behind it with an upward nod of his head. </p>
<p>Kane gazes at him, brows together in a frown, eyes tired and worried. “No, just useless babble. I think he’s delirious.”</p>
<p>Jared sniffs and swallows the drip. “I am going to make him fucking talk today. I’m gonna start takin’ out organs! I want Doc Morgan here and I want him here <i>now</i>.”</p>
<p>“Jay, now hold on,” Kane lays a hand on Jared’s chest. That was <i>Jensen’s</i> thing, an easy way to calm Jared down and center him. He shoves Kane away. </p>
<p>“No! Go get him!”</p>
<p>Kane glances at Peter. Peter gives a helpless shrug. Kane gives a stiff nod before leaving. Jared leans heavily against the steel door, taking deep breaths, trying to rein in the panic and worry that is eating him alive. </p>
<p>Peter approaches him as if he were going to diffuse a bomb. “Jay, I’m woahied about ya. You don’t eat. You’re shoving that shit up yoah nose to keep yoahself awake. Youah gonna kill youahself.”</p>
<p>“You <i>know</i>, Petey. You’re the only one who knows. I’m <i>nothing</i> without Jensen. If he dies….”</p>
<p>Pete sighs, lays those big hands on Jared’s shoulders and captures his gaze. The big man looks more weary and concerned than Jared has ever known him to be. He thinks he should care about what he’s doing to his oldest and dearest friend but he just <i>can’t</i>. Jensen is his only priority. </p>
<p>“He ain’t gonna die,” Peter says with conviction. “But think about this: how would Jensen feel if he knew what you weah doin’ to youahself. Think about that next time you go to snoaht som’o that shit.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know what to do anymore, Petey.” To Jared’s horror he feels his eyes fill with tears, feels their hot path as they race down his cheeks.</p>
<p>“Aww shit, Kid,” Peter says at a loss.</p>
<p>They hear footsteps and Pete stands in front of Jared, using his massive frame to block Jared from the view of whoever has come in. Jared takes the moment to collect himself as best he can. It’s getting harder and harder to do.</p>
<p>“Doc Morgan is on his way, but, Jay, he ain’t gonna do what you’re asking. He may be a crooked doctor but he’s not a monster,” Kane says flatly and leaves.</p>
<p>“Jared,” Peter begins.</p>
<p>“Don’t wanna hear it.”</p>
<p>He hears his friend sigh before he follows Kane out the door.</p>
<p>While waiting for Doc Morgan to arrive, Jared occupies himself with getting Misha into the appropriate position for his impending surgery. He appears to be conscious. His mouth, a bloody, mutilated, maw from where Jared removed all his teeth, hangs open, and little whimpers escape. Jared freely admits he didn’t do as nice a job as he had on Pileggi. Hammers and pliers are not good dentistry tools. Who would have guessed? He rolls Misha over onto his stomach and makes a few shallow cuts into his back approximately where Jared thinks the kidneys might be located. X marks the spot and all that.</p>
<p>“Gonna go in riiiiight about here,” Jared drags the scalpel in a line tangential to the spine. Collins jerks and cries out weakly. “Take out a kidney. Might bake it into a nice steak and kidney pie and feed it to you. Do you like steak and your-kidney pie?” Jared asks smearing the blood welling up from the many cuts he has made.</p>
<p>Sometime—minutes, hours, years, it doesn’t matter anymore—later the door opens and Doctor Jeffery Dean Morgan enters, somber faced. He is a ruggedly handsome older man in his early fifties with dark wavy hair and well-manicured salt and pepper beard. He had worked for Alan and continued to work for Jensen, fixing wounds that they couldn’t exactly go to the ER for without raising suspicion or drawing the wrong kind of attention. </p>
<p>Jared turns away from Collins to face him, dimly aware he has written Jensen’s name in the sticky drying blood on Misha’s back, feeling as if he’s underwater with thousand pound boulders on each shoulder. “Kane told you,” Jared states.</p>
<p>Doc Morgan nods once gravely. “He did. Jared, you could kill him with that kind of trauma on top of what he has already suffer—“  </p>
<p>Jared explodes. “Suffered?” Jared’s wild bark of laughter sounds unhinged even to his own ears. “Bullfucking<i>shit</i>!  What about Jensen?  Huh?  Think about how he must be suffering right now. Who knows where Misha has him and what he’s done to him!”  </p>
<p>“Jared, I know you’re desperate, but this isn’t the way.”</p>
<p>“No! You’re a doctor. You <i>know</i> how long a person can go without food and water. Three fucking days, Morgan!  Three!  And Jensen’s been missing for a total of <i>nine</i>!  He could be <i>dead</i> now goddamnit!” Jared realizes he’s still holding the scalpel in his hand and presses it against the doctor’s throat. </p>
<p>Doc Morgan grasps Jared’s wrist and moves the instrument away from his neck. With his other hand he removes the scalpel from Jared’s grasp, regarding him coolly. “Do I need to tell you that what you’re experiencing now: erratic mood, depression, and emotional instability are all symptoms of sleep deprivation? And when you compound that with cocaine usage? Do you want to tell me you’re thinking clearly? You’re not. You <i>need</i> to lie down and rest. You need to stop the coke. And when was the last time you ate? You’ll do Jensen no good if you don’t look after yourself.” </p>
<p>How can he begin to tell Doc Morgan that he <i>can’t</i> sleep and he throws up whatever he tries to eat? Jensen is stashed somewhere. Probably not being fed, not being given water, depending on Jared to get him back, maybe holding on to that hope is the only thing keeping him going. Jared once swore he would do anything for him. He will not let him down. </p>
<p>“You are putting yourself under an <i>enormous</i> amount of stress. You have the whole IC crew working with you, <i>for</i> you. They are the best. Something has got to give.” </p>
<p>Jared wishes he could believe that.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Hero of the Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>4 - Hero of the Day</p>
<p>Keeping Peter’s words in mind about what Jensen would think if he knew Jared was abusing himself, Jared ceases taking the occasional pinch of coke and sticks to coffee. It’s a poor substitute but Pete is right. Jensen wouldn’t want Jared to kill himself. If Jared were to accidentally OD it would probably be a death sentence for Jensen as well. He’s irritable and twitchy, realizes he’s probably suffering some minor withdrawal symptoms even if he hasn’t been using much or long. Fuck it. If he has to go to rehab and detox he will, <i>after</i> Jensen is safe and sound.  His guys are out running down leads, the way they have been over the last week and a half. Pete is beside him, reading what looks to be a letter over and over again. Petey is very old school, disdaining much of technology besides his e-reader. Pete refolds the piece of paper and puts it in back into his jeans pocket. </p>
<p>“You slept yet, Kid?”</p>
<p>“No,” Jared says and rubs his eyes. He sinks back into the chair and sighs. What else can he possibly do to help Jensen? </p>
<p>He and Peter were back at the Compound, in Jensen’s office. Pete had dragged him away from Collins and The Ranch and brought him here to decompress and feel close to Jensen. This is Jensen’s favorite room, other than their bedroom, and Jared cannot bring himself to go up there. Not after that nightmare of Jensen dead and rotting in their bed. </p>
<p>“You?” Jared inquires. </p>
<p>“A bit. On and off, like the other guys. You should take a showah and shave. Might make ya feel bettah. Definitely make ya smell bettah.”</p>
<p>Jared dismisses the suggestion and Pete’s attempt at levity. He’ll feel better when Jensen is with him again. “Petey, do…do you think we’ll find him? Be honest with me.”</p>
<p>“Ya know I’ll always give it to ya straight, Kid. And yeah, I do. I’m not saying that to blow smoke up youah ass or make ya feel bettah. This Collins guy ain’t smaaht. His crew ain’t eithea and they ain’t loyal. He’s made a mistake somewheah and Mr. Ackles’ guys’ll find it.”</p>
<p>Jared’s throat closes up and his eyes begin to sting. He knows Petey is right but it’s just been so long and a person can only endure so much. As it is Jared feels as if he’s at his breaking point. Everything he has done has yielded no results. He had never felt as useless and desperate as he does now. What must <i>Jensen</i> be feeling?</p>
<p>“What if—“</p>
<p>“Thinkin ya ‘what ifs’ ain’t gonna do a damn bit’a good, Jared,” Peter cuts across him. “Only thing that is doin’ foah ya is drivin’ ya closah to the edge, and you aah already dangling one foot ovah it.”</p>
<p>Jared is opening his mouth to speak, to say what he doesn’t know when he stops at the roar of an engine and tires screeching out in the central turn around. He and Pete exchange tense looks. </p>
<p>A moment later Aldis bursts into the office a wide grin on his face. “Mr. Padalecki, sir!” </p>
<p>Jared’s heart leaps into his throat and he feels dizzy. His entire world hangs on what Aldis is about to say. He knows it must be something good or Aldis wouldn’t be smiling. He allows himself to feel a sliver of hope that this nightmare is about to end. “What?” </p>
<p>“We got a possible line on Mr. Ackles’ location. Get this shit. Collins bought an old dude ranch in Alpine. About seven hours from Dallas, near the Davis Mountains. That is some isolated out of the way area.” </p>
<p>Jared’s pushing to his feet before he’s even aware of doing so. A ranch. A <i>ranch</i>? Jesus fucking Christ. Was that asshole trying to imitate Jensen and the Organization? Hadn’t Pileggi explicitly used the word Organization when referring to Collins’ mob of wannabes? It actually makes a lot of sense. Insofar as Jared’s sleep-deprived mind can make sense of anything. </p>
<p>“Anything else you can tell me about it?”</p>
<p>“He’s had some work done on it. Lindberg found some receipts for heavy equipment rentals—augers, excavators, Ditch Witchs, front end loaders.”</p>
<p>“Augahs?  Loadahs?” Pete says getting to his feet as well, black brows knitted together in a deep frown of concern. “That’s some diggin’ shit, <i>deep</i> diggin’ shit.”</p>
<p>“That’s where he is,” Jared says, sure of it. Bile rises in his throat and he struggles with his gorge. Dear God, <i>digging equipment</i>. His hand shakes as he extracts his phone from his pocket, the terrifying idea dawning that Misha has buried Jensen alive. </p>
<p>Peter takes the phone from him and fixes him with an understanding gaze. “Youah gonna wanna go off half-cocked on this, Jared. Ya can’t,” he cautions pressing a thumb to Kane’s contact info. “Kane, get the crew togetha. We know wheah Mr. Ackles is.”</p>
<p>Jared slaps Aldis on the shoulder, grips it hard. It’s the only kind of thank you and apology he can offer. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The IC, plus Mad Mike, are back at the Compound in record time. They all wear tense and angry expressions. Those looks become even more wrathful when Jared relays to them the information Aldis gave him. They want their boss, their <i>friend</i>, back every bit as much as Jared wants his lover back.</p>
<p>“That motherfucker,” Kane says, looking ready to chew steel and spit nails. </p>
<p>“Exactly. Aldis says it’s seven hours from Dallas. I want Tommy Blue and Lazy Jase to go on ahead for some reconnaissance. We’ll be behind by a couple of hours. Learn everything you can. Guards, firepower, anything and everything.”</p>
<p>“You got it, Boss,” Jase says.</p>
<p>“I’m not the boss,” Jared states flatly. “We’re going to go get him.” </p>
<p>“Kane, Petey and Stevie Guitar will be with me. And Mike, you too, unless you want to go with Tommy?”</p>
<p>“I’m cool riding with you guys.”</p>
<p>Jared nods. “Doc Morgan is gonna follow us. We don’t know what condition Jensen will be in when we find him; Doc will be there to assess and triage him.”  Jared holds out six phones. “Everybody take one. Burners. Aldis and Lindberg have already programmed our contact info into them. He’ll wipe and destroy them after we get Jensen back. Now, let’s arm up and head out.”</p>
<p>“A'oo!” Mike cheers as if he is a Spartan soldier. It almost makes Jared smile. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jared knows he should take more time to plan a careful and well thought out assault on the building they suspect Jensen is being held captive in, but he just can’t. He doesn’t believe in psychic flashes, premonitions, or other metaphysical shit, but he knows that Jensen is in serious trouble if they don’t get to him soon. Jensen has been gone ten days now. That could possibly be without food or water. They have to act now. Each IC member is armed to the fucking teeth and wearing Kevlar vests. Jared is packing his .357 and his beloved Thompson submachine gun that Jensen gave him for his twenty-fifth birthday. He never felt more like a gangster from the prohibition-era than when Jensen gave it to him. </p>
<p>Given what Jared has gleaned from his men’s interrogations of Collins’ stooges he doesn’t expect much resistance. There is no loyalty in them. Collins neither earned nor inspired it in the men he recruited. So much the better for Jared’s guys. The men who follow Jared are loyal to him and Jensen; years of friendship, trust, and love bind them together. </p>
<p>They decide to take the new Lincoln Navigator. Jared sends Pete into the main house for some blankets and pillows. He folds down the third row of seating, making a kind of bed for Jensen, when they find him. After last minute checks of weapons and ammo they hit the road. </p>
<p>Jared’s leg bounces and he fiddles with the Sirius radio buttons, changing from one station to another hoping to find something to take his mind off things for just a little while. All the stations are Jensen’s favorites. Every song, every artist—Blue Oyster Cult, The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Bob fucking Segar—make him think of Jensen and better, happier days. He cannot bear to listen to them with the nightmare scenarios playing in his head. Them finding Jensen only for him to be dead for only minutes prior to their arrival, his gently tanned skin still warm, or they find him and he has been dead for days his beautiful features and body distorted by bloat, rotting from the inside out. Shit like that went though Jared’s head every second of every day that Jensen’s been missing and people expected him to <i>sleep</i>? Idiots. He wants a bump of Coke, but won’t, can’t, do that shit anymore. He doesn’t really need it, knows its working his way out of his system, that’s part of why he’s so irritable and twitchy. He doesn’t miss the way it made his heart beat out of control or how it made his nose run. </p>
<p>“Will you fuckin’ stop, Jared,” Pete snaps, uncharacteristic of him, after Jared punches over to yet another radio station. <i>Night Moves</i> had just started to play. </p>
<p>“Fuck off, Pete!” Jared snarls. “Just drive the damn car!”</p>
<p>They had been on I-20 for an hour and a half when traffic grinds to a halt.</p>
<p>“What the fuck!” Jared explodes, slamming a palm into the dash. </p>
<p>“Must be an accident,” Stevie says sensibly.</p>
<p>“You don’t say,” Jared replies in a viscous snark.</p>
<p>“What crawled up your ass, Jay?” Kane asks.</p>
<p>“You can fuck off, too.”</p>
<p>“Little Boss, you need something to take the edge off?” Mike asks, already reaching into a pocket.</p>
<p>Jared’s nose tingles and the urge to say yes gnaws at him but he won’t. “No,” Jared answers absolute. “What I fucking need is this goddamn traffic to <i>move</i>!”</p>
<p>A tense quiet settles over the SUV as the traffic continues to crawl. Jared really needs teleportation to be a thing. Seriously, they had communicators, PADDs, and other sci-fi <i>Star Trek</i> shit, but not the coolest most useful thing? Fucked up, man. He almost smiles thinking about <i>Star Trek</i> and Jensen being a closet Trekkie. One night after sex Jared had listened to Jensen speculate for three goddamn hours about the Breen. He had still been talking about what could possibly be under the environmental suits the Breen wore as he dropped off to sleep. Jared’s heart clenches at the sweet memory. </p>
<p>The accident, once they get close to it, turns out to be a semi that jackknifed and spilled its load—cases of M&amp;Ms—all over the interstate and people were taking packages of the colorful candies by the armful even as police tried to direct traffic and discourage the looters.</p>
<p>“I could really go for some M&amp;Ms,” Mike says smacking his lips.</p>
<p>Jared rubs his eyes. “I could go for coffee.”</p>
<p>“A-fuckin-gree,” Kane said.</p>
<p>After they pass the accident sight, Pete makes an executive decision, takes the next exit to hit up a Starbucks and orders a dozen coffees. Once they are back on the interstate, and properly caffeinated, Pete speeds like a motherfucker. </p>
<p>Jared’s burner trills and he immediately answers it. “Go.”</p>
<p>“We got eyes on the place, Boss,” Lazy Jase’s usually languid and playful voice was hard and all business.</p>
<p>“You’re there already?” It eased something inside him to know that other IC men were close to Jensen’s location. His man wasn’t entirely alone. Help was there and more was on the way. Jared knew if he ordered them to storm the place where Jensen was, Tommy and Jase wouldn’t hesitate to do so. </p>
<p>“We shagged ass,” Jase replies simply.</p>
<p>Jared grins. He knew they would. “What ya seeing?” Jared asks.</p>
<p>“The dude ranch is set way back off the main road. There is a turn off onto a dirt road that goes for about half a mile that leads up to a gate. There is a perimeter fence and its guarded by a dozen men by our count. We haven’t been here long enough to notice any shift changes. Each guard is dressed in street clothes, appears to not be wearing body armor and are carrying semi automatic rifles. Looks like…Smith &amp; Wesson M&amp;P 15-22s. So not a lot of firepower.”</p>
<p>“Overall impressions?”</p>
<p>“Amateur as fuck, sir,” Jase says. Tommy Blue laughs in the background. </p>
<p>“Keep watch. Relay any important developments back to us. We’ll be there soon as we can.” Jared ends the call. </p>
<p>When at last they rendezvous with Tommy and Jase, Jared is about to come out of his skin knowing Jensen is close, feeling it in his bones, needing to stampede into that ranch house, find and get him into Doc Morgan’s care. </p>
<p>Their rendezvous point is two miles from the mouth of the turn off that leads to the ranch where they suspect—know—Jensen is being held. Lazy Jace and Tommy Blue are waiting for them.</p>
<p>Jared, Pete, Stevie Guitar, Kane and Mad Mike exit the Navigator. “New developments?” Jared immediately asks.</p>
<p>Tommy Blue shakes his head, scrubbing a hand across his face. “These guys are so goddamn unprofessional. I don’t know if it’s laughable or pathetic.” His handsome features twist in distaste. “There is a big guy, looks as big as Big Pete, and he’s supposed to be standing guard at the entrance to the ranch house itself. He’s there by the door alright, playing on his fucking phone.”</p>
<p>The other members of the IC all make noises of disbelieve and disgust. Jared absorbs the information. It’s no more or less than he’d expected. Low level thugs wanting some kind of power and buying into whatever shit Collins was selling them.</p>
<p>“Sheeeit,” Lazy Jase drawls. “The guards by the gate are fucking sittin’ down, one looks to be <i>asleep</i>. The other guards stationed around the fence and the house itself are all doin’ similar shit.”</p>
<p>“How many totahl?” Pete asks.</p>
<p>“Fourteen.”</p>
<p>They all turn, drawing their weapons when they hear the crunch of tires on dry earth and the approach of an engine. It is only Doc Morgan in his cherry red Caddy. He kills the engine and climbs out of the car, approaching them with a loose-limbed gait. He greets them with a nod, .45 tucked into the waistband of his black slacks. Jared has a new respect for the doc after he fearlessly plucked the scalpel from Jared’s fist that he had been holding to Morgan’s throat. That man was a badass and capable and he would do everything to care for Jensen. </p>
<p>They holster their weapons and return to their conversation. Jared is fucking done. “They are unprepared for any kind of attack. We move in now, and hit ‘em with everything.”</p>
<p>Kane is nodding. “Agreed. We go in hot and hard.”  </p>
<p>“That’s what he said,” Mad Mike snickered, but his eyes were glowing at the prospect of mayhem and violence. </p>
<p>Tommy groaned and nudged his boyfriend. “I’m sorry, Boss.”</p>
<p>“I am <i>not</i> the fucking Boss!” Jared snarls.</p>
<p>“Jay,” Pete says. </p>
<p>“No,” Jared says shrugging off Pete’s placating hand. </p>
<p>“Back to the matter at hand,” Stevie Guitar says. “Sounds like it won’t take much to neutralize them. Then we can sweep the house for Jensen.”</p>
<p>“We going on foot?” Tommy asks. “More stealthy that way. They might be slacking off now, but if they hear an engine they might come to attention.”</p>
<p>“We need to get closer. I want to check shit out with my own eyes first,” Jared says. “Follow in your Caddy, JD. You got your bag?”</p>
<p>“Of course. Got any and all supplies I think might be needed to triage Mr. Ackles.”</p>
<p>“Let’s go.”</p>
<p>The men nod and all pile into the Navigator. It’s a bit awkward with the third row of seating gone. Pete drives at a crawl, and Jared understands why. Sound seems to carry with the earthy-colored mountains surrounding them. He turns down the track that leads to the ranch and stops as the house comes into view. There is a slight dip and curve in the road that is excellent to hide them from sight of the guards.</p>
<p>“This is where we did our recon,” Tommy says. </p>
<p>The house is an unremarkable single story ranch-style house, but what surrounds it is anything but unremarkable. The perimeter fence Jase had mentioned is roughly eight feet high chain-link topped with razor wire. The slide gate appears to be a cantilever system with an automated locking mechanism that has two guards stationed outside it. Taken individually the fence and gate wouldn’t be out of place at an industrial building or surrounding a warehouse, but here in the middle of nowhere surrounding a ranch house?  No. It looks like what Jared suspects it is: a prison. Stupid thing to do really. The Ackles Organization’s Ranch looks dilapidated and anyone who happened on to the property wouldn’t think anything of it nor be curious to investigate. This? This set up screams LOOK AT ME. </p>
<p>As Tommy had said, both guards were on their asses on the hard earth, guns disregarded, one slumped over sleeping.  </p>
<p>“Any sign of guahds inside the house?” Pete asks.</p>
<p>“We saw no one go in or out of the house. I doubt there are any, tell ya the truth,” Jase says. “I think Collins has put all his confidence in the big fucker by the house door.”</p>
<p>Jared rolls his eyes. Collins even has his own giant of a man. He really was trying to imitate Jensen. </p>
<p>“He ain’t no Big Pete,” Stevie Guitar says leaning forward to look out the windshield. “Big Pete’d never be playin’ on a phone when he had a job to do.”</p>
<p>“Can we drive through that?” Jared inquires pointing at the gate. Charging in guns blazing seems the best course of action, and not because Jared wants to inflict as much damage as possible in an opening gambit but because the element of surprise is with them. They need to take full advantage of that. </p>
<p>Mike grins, that mad eager light in his eye. “Nav is armor plated and heavy as fuck. We could get through it easy if Big Pete backs up and guns it.”</p>
<p>“That’ll wake ‘em up,” Pete says in that dry deadpan tone of his. The IC guys laugh. Jared almost joins them.</p>
<p>Ten days of missing Jensen and Jared worrying himself half to death and retrieving him is really easy.</p>
<p>Steel or not, the gate fucking <i>erupts</i> when Pete drives the SUV through it with the speedometer approaching ninety. That draws the attention of the perimeter guards and they all coming running. The IC vault from the Nav and spray bullets at anything that isn’t them. The opposition finally clue in to the fact that something big is going down and begin returning fire. Worryingly, Jared hears someone shout “KANE!”  </p>
<p>Jared makes a beeline for the ranch house and the big motherfucker “guarding” it. Jared mows him down with his Tommy gun, putting enough lead in him to nearly saw him in half. The Big Man clutches his mutilated guts and collapses back onto his ass. Pete, who had been behind Jared, covering him, puts a single bullet into the Big Man’s brain, ending his suffering. Jared scowls. He wanted anyone and everyone involved in this shit to endure untold suffering.</p>
<p>More gunfire and shouting from behind him but it fades into the background as Jared turns his attention to the house’s door. He gazes in dim alarm and burgeoning hope. Across the door is a three inch solid steel bar. There was only one reason for that kind of security. Jensen is captive in this fucking house. </p>
<p>“JENSEN!”  Jared bellows. “Can you hear me?”  He levels his Tommy gun at the steel bar. “Take cover if you can!” Jared steps back and curls his finger around the trigger. </p>
<p>“No,” Pete says grabbing Jared’s shoulder and pulling him back. </p>
<p>Jared damn near pumps his oldest friend full of lead. “What the fuck, Peter!” Jared howls.</p>
<p>“Won’t woahk. They’ll just ricochet and huaht us.” </p>
<p>The action behind them seems to have tapered off. There was no more gunfire but there were shouts and cries of pain. </p>
<p>“Big Pete is right,” Jared turns and sees Mad Mike looking none the worse for wear, a little blood splatter and a split lip. His grin is wide and wild as he holds up and fucking grenade. “I can take care’a that for you, Little Boss.” He wags his brows, fingering the pin in the grenade lovingly. Jared really fucking likes this guy.</p>
<p>“JENSEN! Please, if you can hear, get as far away from the door as possible!” Jared and Pete take cover behind the Navigator. Mike waits thirty seconds before pulling the pin on the grenade and running full-tilt boogie toward them, jumping over the hood and landing on his ass beside them, eyes alight. </p>
<p>“You coulda just busted a window out, ya know?” Pete says again calm as anything and deadpan as usual.</p>
<p>Before either Mike or Jared can retort the grenade detonates and the entire door and front wall of the house is blown away. Shrapnel goes flying in all directions. Mike, Pete, and Jared are unharmed. The blast has barely finished reverberating and Jared is running toward the house, his heart in this throat. </p>
<p>
  <i>Please, don’t let my baby have been near the door.</i>
</p>
<p>Jared jumps over the smoking rubble and into the house. Though the front wall was decimated Jared can see a hall off to the left. Straight ahead was what was left of a living room with a dining area and kitchen beyond. Jensen is nowhere in sight.</p>
<p> “JENSEN!”  Jared shouts.</p>
<p>“You and Mike do the hallway,” Pete says moving past Jared and into the living area. “I’ll check through theah. Be caahful.”</p>
<p>“Yo!  Boss Man!  You in here?” Mike shouts, moving down the long hall and cautiously pushes open a door on the left.</p>
<p>Jared follows behind him, mimicking his action of pushing open the door on the right before sticking his head in. He can hear Peter calling for Jensen as well in the kitchen.</p>
<p>“Jensen!” Jared calls out. The room is totally empty. No furniture. Nothing. He feels as if he’s moving through sludge can’t, pick up his feet, but he knows he’s moving feeling as if the last grains of sand in an hourglass have run out. Where is he? He has to be here. Has to be! </p>
<p>“Boss Ackles?”  Mike calls, a little further down the hall.</p>
<p>“I found ‘im!” Comes Petey’s powerful bass voice from somewhere deep within the house. “He’s heah!”</p>
<p>Panic and excitement war inside Jared as he sprints back down the hall, through the obliterated living room and into the kitchen. He stops glancing around. Heart thundering breathing deep and ragged, he’s drenched in sweat. He feels dizzy and is shaking all over. Where the fuck was Petey? Had he imagned Pete saying he found Jensen? Maybe he was finally going insane. The machine gun feels very heavy in his arm. If Jensen isn’t here after all this Jared may just use it on himself. </p>
<p>“Petey?” Jared calls voice raising an octave. “Where?”</p>
<p>“Down heah!”</p>
<p>“Must be a basement,” Mike says, at Jared’s shoulder.</p>
<p>“Is he alive?”  Jared forces the words out. His entire existence hinges on Pete’s answer.</p>
<p>“Yeah, but he don’t look too good.”</p>
<p>“Motherfucker!” Jared yells. </p>
<p>There is a bright light coming from a doorway that looked as if it had been camouflaged into the wall. Jared thunders down the wood steps. When he reaches the bottom he sees Pete looking down into a hole or well. Swallowing, Jared gazes down and his world drops. At the bottom of the pit is a naked man, smeared with dirt, that doesn’t appear to be breathing or moving. It’s Jensen. He’d know that form anywhere. </p>
<p>Jared grips Petey’s bicep, feeling all of ten again. “Are you sure he’s alive?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Doc Morgan had a spinal board in the trunk of his Caddy, and, with some rope from the Nav, they lowered Mike, who was the smallest and the lightest, down into the pit. With care and gentleness Jared wouldn’t have expected, Mike positions Jensen onto the board and they lift Jensen up and out. Jared dances from foot to foot, on a knife’s edge. He <i>needs</i> to see Jensen, to touch him, let him know, let them both know that he was safe and everything would be okay. Jensen is naked and unresponsive on the board. Jared wants to scream and cry, rend his clothes, and tear out his hair. On legs that feel like pudding, Jared approaches the man he loves, but Doc Morgan shoves him out of the way with his bulging duffel of medical supplies. </p>
<p>Pete wraps an arm around Jared’s shoulders to hold him back. “He needs to check ‘im out, Jared.” Pete’s voice is soft with understanding, but his hold is firm. “Best thing you can do foah Mr. Ackles now is let ‘im. I know it’s killin’ ya.”</p>
<p>Jared wails; the emotional turmoil at last breaking free from the duct taped dam of his will and flooding out. Pete’s grip on him tightens. Tommy, Mike, Stevie and Kane all exchange worried puzzled looks.</p>
<p>Doc Morgan flashes his penlight in Jensen’s eyes. “Pupils reacting.” He taps his stethoscope before pressing it to Jensen’s bare chest. “Heartbeat erratic.” He plucks at Jensen’s skin. “Dehydrated. Badly.” Morgan says. “Gotta get some fluids in him.” </p>
<p>The doc puts gloves on before pulling several things out of his duffel. Jared recognizes a bag of IV fluids, a length of tubing, and a needle catheter. He cleans Jensen’s arm, ties on a tourniquet, and inserts the catheter in the crook of his elbow and hooks the tubing and IV into it. “I think it is just dehydration. Very severe dehydration, which accounts for his lethargy and heartbeat. Let’s get him into the SUV and back to the Compound. I’ll hook him up to a heart monitor to make sure his heart rhythms stabilize as he gets hydrated. Jase needs a hospital ASAP though. Kane, you’re good for now, right?”</p>
<p>Kane nods. Jared notices a bloody bandage on Kane’s shoulder and that Lazy Jase isn’t amongst their number.</p>
<p>“What happened to Lazy Jase?” Pete asks.</p>
<p>“Got it in the back,” Stevie Guitar says. “He’s conscious but says he can’t feel his legs.”</p>
<p>“Aww, Jesus,” Petey says and crosses himself. </p>
<p>Jared feels strangely disconnected from the news about Jase and Kane. It’s the risk inherent in their lifestyle. If needed Jared would have taken a bullet for Jensen. He gazes down at Jensen who looks somehow small and frail. Jared wants to strip out of his own clothes and cover Jensen. His nakedness is not for anyone else’s eyes, but they weren’t really <i>looking</i> at Jensen. </p>
<p>Unable to help himself, Jared collapses to his knees beside the man he loves. “I got you, baby. It’s okay. We’ll get you home and you’ll be fine.” Then he does something he has never done before and presses a kiss to Jensen’s pale parched lips in front of everyone.</p>
<p>“Well, shit fire and save matches!” Mike exclaims looking agog at Jared. “You and the Boss?”</p>
<p>“Mike, I am too tired to kill you so just shut up,” Jared says caressing Jensen’s bearded cheek.</p>
<p>“He didn’t mean anything by it, Jared,” Tommy says. “We figured the Boss had someone. We didn’t figure on it being you though.”</p>
<p>“Y’all kept that secret locked up tighter than a ten year old’s pussy.”</p>
<p>“<i>For fuck’s sake</i>, Michael,” Tommy cringes.</p>
<p>“Little Jay?” Stevie says tentatively. </p>
<p>Jared tears his eyes away from Jensen’s still form to look at the other man. “What?”</p>
<p>“What’re we doin’ about this fuckin’ place?” </p>
<p>Dimly Jared realizes that although Jensen is found and seems to be relatively stable. Jared is still the Big Boss Man until Jensen is in control of his faculties. He is more than ready to lay down that mantle. If this ordeal has taught him anything it’s that he is not meant to be King. Jensen can wear the crown; Jared is content to support and protect him, offer advice if he feels he can, and love him.</p>
<p>“Burn it to the goddamn ground. And get a crew in here to get rid of the bodies. Stevie, get Jase to a fucking hospital, now.”</p>
<p>Stevie nods and quickly departs. </p>
<p>“Kane, you gonna stay and help Mike and Tommy or you riding with us back to the Compound?”</p>
<p>“I’ll stay, sir.”</p>
<p>Jared nods. “Let’s get to it.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jared falls asleep for the first time in days in the back of the Nav with Jensen, holding his hand. He doesn’t dream.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As much as Jared wants to tend to Jensen when they arrive back at the Compound as the sun is rising on a new and better day, he has one thing he has to do. He sees that Jensen is comfortably ensconced in their bed, kisses his forehead before leaving him in Doc Morgan’s capable hands. He has to settle things with Misha fucking Collins. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anger pulses through Jared with every beat of his ice cold heart as he enters the cell. Everything Jensen must have suffered in that dark pit, the worry, the fear, all of <i>Jared’s</i> worry and fear, color his vision red as he sets eyes on the man responsible for it all. Misha is where Jared left him, on the embalming table; somehow still alive. </p>
<p>Quickly and efficiently, Jared doesn’t want to take too long with this task, but he won’t be able to rest until it is done and done by his own hand, he locks the shackles around Misha’s wrists and hoists him up, suspending him just so the toe of his remaining foot drags the ground. </p>
<p>Then, he grasps the Bowie knife. </p>
<p>He hits Collins with a vicious backhand. “You conscious, asshole?” </p>
<p>He thinks he hears a weak wheeze from the hanging man. Jared grabs a handful of hair and lifts his head up. Collins’s blue eyes were half mast and bright with fever and pain, but Jared thinks there is a spark of recognition in them. </p>
<p>“We found him, motherfucker. Enjoy hell…until I get there.” Jared plunges the eight inch long blade deep into Misha’s guts and wrenches up. He steps back as Misha’s intestines spill out in a grotesque red flood, like a garden hose coated with cherry syrup. </p>
<p>Jared tosses the knife down and exits the cell without a backward glance</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When he returns home to the Compound, Doc Morgan is in with Jensen who is still asleep. Someone must have given him a sponge bath because he looks clean though his hair is still filthy and he still has a patchy beard. The doc is looking at a print out from some heart machine he has Jensen hook up to. </p>
<p>“Is his heart okay?” Jared asks softly approaching the side of their bed. </p>
<p>Doc Morgan lifts his head from the lengthy print out and tugs his wire-rimmed glasses down his nose. “I took an EKG,” he indicates the printout. “There was some arrhythmia when he was first hooked up, but his heart rhythms have begun to stabilize. He’s still dehydrated and I have some vitamins piggybacking his IV fluids because he’s obviously been starved as well. I want him to eat and drink as soon as he’s awake and able. How are you, Jared?”</p>
<p>Jared scrubs a hand over his face, feels grit and who knew what else covering it. He can’t imagine what he looks like. He feels like a zombie, but better now that Jensen is home and safe. “Tired as hell.”</p>
<p>“You still taking Coke to keep yourself awake?”</p>
<p>Jared takes a seat beside the bed and takes Jensen’s hand in his. “No, sir,” Jared says. He never calls anyone sir, but Morgan just has that presence about him, commands respect, and Jared will give it. </p>
<p>“Good. Leave that shit alone. I want you to rest and eat as well. I’ll be in from time to time to check on the heart monitor and change the IV. I think Jensen will be fine once properly hydrated.”</p>
<p>Those words soothe Jared’s ragged soul and he relaxes back into the chair. </p>
<p>“Thanks, Doc.”</p>
<p>Doc Morgan gives a nod and departs. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jared remains by Jensen’s bedside, intermittently dozing, but never fully dropping off. At some point, Mike, Tommy, Stevie and Kane cautiously come in. They relay that everything at Collins’s “ranch” had been taken care of and they were off to the hospital to check on Lazy Jase. </p>
<p>Jared thanks them for their help and asks that they pass on his good wishes and get-wells to Jase, then he and Jensen are alone again. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Jensen begins to stir, making small whimpering noises, Jared snaps out of his doze and grips his hand. “Jense? You with me, baby?” His voice sounds hoarse and his heart jumps from his chest to sit in the back of his throat. What if Jensen has sustained some kind of neurological damage they don’t know about because he has been barely conscious or asleep?</p>
<p>When Jensen opens his eyes, eyes that are clear and bright and burn with recognition, Jared allows himself to breathe freely for the first time in ten fucking days.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Memory Remains</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>5 – The Memory Remains</p><p>After Jensen had woken up, and Petey had dropped his fucking bomb about going back to Brooklyn, Jared had been too exhausted to disobey Jensen’s order to climb into bed with him and sleep. For the first time in days his sleep is not plagued by nightmares of Jensen dead and rotting. For some reason all his dreams are about Jensen reclining on a mountain of fluffy pillows, wearing a toga and a laurel wreath crown while Jared feeds him grapes. He’d take peaceful dreams like that any day.</p><p>He doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep as he gradually returns to consciousness. The first thing he is aware of is two soft voices speaking. One was Jensen and the other belonged to Kane. </p><p>“Y’all kept that shit locked down. Now, Little Jay’s frantic behavior, his obsession to get you back, makes a lot more sense now. How long y’all been a couple?”</p><p>“Almost from the start.” Jensen says, voice warm with fondness.</p><p>“That long?” Kane replies. “That’s been, what? Fifteen, sixteen years now? Goddamn, Jen.”</p><p>“Shhh,” Jensen says sharply. Jared can feel Jensen petting his filthy hair. He really should get up if only to take a shower he very sorely needs. </p><p>“I gotta say I’m a little pissed off you didn’t trust us Inner Circle guys enough to tell us. You gotta know that we wouldn’t tell.”</p><p>“My private life is just that, Christian—<i>private</i>.” The use of Kane’s actual name throws Jared’s sleep fogged mind. Jensen’s rockin’ that cold Big Boss Man voice. If Jared were more awake his dick would more than likely be chubbin’ up. </p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” Kane says dismissively. “It makes me feel good knowin’ you’ve had someone all these years. Not just empty flings. The older I get the more I realize that’s no way to live.”</p><p>“No, it’s not. Jare and I are the real deal. We all need to have a talk, regroup, once Jared is better.”</p><p>“What about you, Boss? How’re you feelin’? Want to order some food?  Kitchen staff is all on standby.”</p><p>“I’m okay. Once Jared wakes up, both of us will eat a feast fit for a Roman orgy.”</p><p>“A Roman orgy, eh?” Jared can hear the grin in Kane’s voice. “You guys are into kinky shit, huh?”</p><p>“Fuck off, Kane,” Jensen retorts with no heat. “Tell Jase I’ll come see him as soon as I can.”</p><p>“I take it I’m being dismissed, Boss?”</p><p>“You are.”</p><p> “Okay. Take it easy, Jensen.”</p><p>He hears Kane leave. As he’s beginning to drift off, Jensen speaks. “How much of that did you hear?”</p><p>Jared takes his time opening his eyes and when he does his heart leaps when he sees Jensen’s handsome, smiling face gazing oh so lovingly down at him. He looks well-rested and some color is back in his face. Jared feels a knot of tension he hadn’t been aware of loosen.  He yawns and pushes up into a more seated position. Oh, Christ, he’s fucking sore and achy and he <i>reeks</i> to high heaven and low hell. How the fuck had Jensen sat there letting him stink up the bed like this? He wants to kiss Jensen so bad but he does have some decorum. He’s subjected Jensen to enough of his foul odors, he’ll not subject him to whatever his mouth probably tastes like. He smacks his dry mouth. Ass. Yeah his mouth tastes like ass, not the clean sexy musky kind of ass, like the ass of road kill. Jesus. </p><p>“Heard you use that sex-ass Big Boss Man voice,” he leans in, not even aware he’s doing it, but when he realizes he is he backs away. Jensen’s arm shoots out, yanks him forward, and smashes their mouths together in a hard needy kiss. They kiss until they need air and only separate enough to draw in breath.</p><p>“I love you, Jare, but you really, really stink. How about we get clean and maybe a little dirty in the Jacuzzi tub?”</p><p>Jared is more than on board with that.</p><p> </p><p>Although they got handsy and lingered over one another’s cocks and balls they mostly soaked and dozed and let the swirling jets soothe their achy muscles. With utmost care, they shaved the scraggly beards from one another’s faces. As Jared shaved Jensen with the mother of pearl handled straight razor, he felt unworthy of the trust his man still had in him after Jared had allowed him to be abducted. Jensen’s unwavering trust means the world to him and it felt incredible to have Jensen back with him and safe. He was never going to let Jensen out of his sight again.</p><p>The sun is hot and bright on the veranda. In slacks and button up shirts, they lounge in Adirondack chairs awaiting the massive meal Jensen has ordered for them. Jensen seems to glory in the sunshine like a cat, though his eyes are covered with Ray Bans, as they sip their respective brand of fine Scotches.</p><p>“How are you, Jared, really?” Jensen asks.</p><p>Jared can feel the weight of his gaze, even behind the dark lenses. “Perfect.”</p><p>“No…cravings?” Jensen inquires further with a little lift of a brow.</p><p>“No. You don’t need to worry, Jense.” He reaches over and takes Jensen’s hand, giving a firm reassuring squeeze. “I just needed something to help me stay awake.” He feels better than he has since before this whole ordeal started. He’s relaxed, well-rested after a sixteen hour sleep, and squeaky clean from a very thorough bath with his man. In a few minutes he’s going to eat the biggest and best meal of his life. </p><p>Jensen holds his gaze for several moments before nodding, seeming satisfied with Jared’s answer. “Well, if you think you are headed for trouble, I’ll get you any and all the help you need.” He squeezes Jared’s hand back. </p><p>From the bedroom they hear a sharp rap on the door. <i>Food!</i>  Jared starts to immediately salivate and Jensen grins, looking like a kid on Christmas.</p><p>“Come in!” Jensen shouts. “We are literally starving.”</p><p>Jared does not find Jensen’s little joke at all funny. His appetite wanes a little until the Ackles’ long-time housekeeper Samantha Smith, a slender attractive blonde woman in her late forties, enters. A battalion of kitchen workers follow bearing trays of the heavenly smelling foods that Jensen and Jared requested. </p><p>“Here you go, sirs,” she says indicating the trays. “I believe this is everything you asked for. Kobe Filet Minion, BLT, and double bacon cheeseburger, eggplant parmigiana, assorted fresh tropical fruits, buttermilk biscuits, bagels, mashed potatoes, asparagus with hollandaise, steamed broccoli, roasted Brussels sprouts, fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, roasted turkey breast, and Caesar salad. Your desserts of Devil’s Food cake and cherry cheesecake will be up directly. Do you want anything else?”</p><p>Jared will give her props for asking that with a straight face.</p><p>“Pie,” Jensen replies, already reaching for two different dishes. “Banana crème and cherry lattice.”</p><p>“Of course, Mr. Ackles.”</p><p>“Cookies,” Jared says, spearing a piece of asparagus, coated in the rich yellow sauce. “The thin crispy kind with toffee and brown butter.”</p><p>“Of course, Mr. Padalecki.</p><p>“And coffee. Lotsa black coffee. And cream for Jare.” Jensen says, before shoving the BLT into his face.</p><p>She waits another moment to see if anything else will be requested before she and the kitchen staff depart. </p><p>“Shoulda asked for tiramisu,” Jared says absently. He plunges a chicken leg into his dish of mashed potatoes before cleaning  it in a single huge bite. </p><p>Conversation is suspended as they stuff their faces, eating with little decorum or manners. Both men have second helpings of most things but stop short of three in favor of waiting for their desserts. The kitchen staff removes the demolished dishes of their first course and Ms. Smith sets down their respective desserts, Devil’s Food Cake and pie for Jensen and cheesecake and cookies for Jared. She leaves a pot of coffee and a pint of cream.</p><p>Jared pours himself a cup, adding half of the fresh sweet cream. </p><p>“Goddamn, Jared. If I churned that cup of coffee, I’d end up with coffee flavored butter. It’s <i>indecent</i>.”</p><p>Jared throws his head back and laughs. It feels so damn good. It feels normal. </p><p>Having eaten as much as they can hold—although Jensen keeps picking at the flaky pie crust—Jared decides it’s time to discuss the future of the Organization and his role in it. He sinks back in his chair and lights a cigar, thinking how to broach the subject. </p><p>“Jensen…do…do you think you’ll have kids?”</p><p>“Where did <i>that</i> come from?” Jensen asks. Fifteen years and Jared thinks he has genuinely shocked his lover. </p><p>“Just…” Jared stops, unsure how to phrase what he’s trying to say. “The Organization is a family business:  your grandfather, your father, and now you. Don’t you think you should have a son or daughter to take over?”</p><p>“Jared, where’s this coming from?” He looked both puzzled and horrified, handsome features scrunched up. “Do you want us to have kids? Is that what you’re trying to say?” </p><p>Jared sighs heavily; he is not doing this at all well. “No, Jensen. I wouldn’t know the first thing about being a father or co-parenting with you. But you shouldn’t let that decide if <i>you</i> want to have a kid.”</p><p>“Jared, whatever we do, we do <i>together</i>.” He takes Jared’s hand. “I’m fine not having children. My dad never drilled it into me that I had to have an heir to leave the Organization to. He just insisted it be someone I trust. That is you. I trust you with everything I am, and everything I have.” </p><p>“That’s just it, Jensen. You need to name someone else as your successor. I don’t have the skills or temperament to be the Big Boss Man. I about went over the fucking edge. If Petey hadn’t been there to call be back I would have and Petey’s not here anymore. I don’t trust myself; neither should you, not in this.”</p><p>Jensen gazes at him for a long time before he nods. “Okay,” he says softly, giving Jared’s hand a squeeze. “If you think that’s best.”</p><p>“I do. I’m exactly where I want to be, Jense, your Enforcer doing the nasty stuff: hits and interrogations. That’s where I belong.”</p><p>“You’ve given me something big to think about.” He sips his coffee, gazes out into the lush back gardens.</p><p>“I’d pick Kane or Tommy Blue,” Jared says. “Either man is much more level headed than I. Serious, but not crazy like me.” He takes a pull off his cigar.</p><p>Jensen appears thoughtful for several moments before saying, “Jared, you’re not crazy.”</p><p>“I know I’m not right in the top story,” Jared says, sighing and smiling, loving Jensen all the more for defending him, even from himself. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.”</p><p>“Okay, okay. You are a <i>tad</i> unhinged. I knew that when you gave me Chad Murray’s eyeballs, but maybe that turns me on.”</p><p>They sit in silence for a long time watching the sun move across the sky. Jared feels warm and drowsy with a full stomach, the sun on his skin, excellent alcohol, and the man he loves beside him. Life should always be like this.</p><p>“Why isn’t Mad Mike in the IC?” Jared asks finally. “Do you not like him? Or trust him?”</p><p>“Neither of those, really. I knew Mike when he was a kid slinging on the corner. My Dad gave him his promotions. I’m familiar with him but not close to him like I am the other guys. Why?”</p><p>“I like him. A lot. Since Petey has gone back to Brooklyn maybe Fate is trying to tell us something.” </p><p> </p><p>Jared is drenched in sweat, beneath him Jensen arches and moans, hands fisted in Jared’s hair as he blows him. As close as Jared came to losing Jensen it feels incredible to make love to him again, reaffirm their intimacy, their bond. The feel of him, hard, throbbing, and <i>alive</i> in his mouth, the taste of him, salty and bitter on his tongue, Jared can’t get enough. </p><p>“Jared. Jared. Jared. Please. I’m gonna cum, but I want you in me when I do. Please, Sir.”</p><p>Jared pulls off of Jensen’s length with a filthy wet pop. He gets up on his knees, his own aching cock slapping against his lower belly. He grasps Jensen’s thighs and wraps them around his hips. </p><p>“This what my baby wants?”  Jared grips the base of his cock and pushes at Jensen’s slick entrance.</p><p>Jensen’s eyes roll in his head and he mewls. “Oh God, yes. Please, Sir. Give it to me. Missed you so much.”</p><p>Jared bends and takes his mouth in a deep bruising kiss. When he pulls back they are both breathless. “I love you more than anything, Jensen.”</p><p>Jensen gazes up at him so open and trusting and Jared hates that he failed him. It was his fault for not being more alert that Jensen was ever in danger. “I know, Jared,” Jensen replies, the power dynamic between them momentarily suspended. </p><p>“I wouldn’t want to go on without you, wouldn’t know how. You are <i>everything</i> to me. I live to make you happy, keep you safe, and I….” His voice wavers.</p><p>“Jared. You do. Your faith in yourself has been shaken, but <i>not mine</i>.” That’s the Big Boss Man voice and Jared’s erection, which started to flag, perks back up. “Now, if you do not fuck me with that gorgeous cock of yours, <i>Sir</i>, so help me God, I will dust off one of my old dildos and do it myself!”</p><p>Sometime later, after having come his brains out, Jared finds himself ripped from sleep by the most ear-splitting shriek he has ever heard. Their bedroom is pitch dark and Jared fumbles for some kind of light, as that shriek continues punctuated by thrashing. He grabs his phone and turns on the flashlight app. The LED fills the immediate area around their bed with light. Jared turns and realizes it’s Jensen who is shrieking and thrashing. He hadn’t even known Jensen could make such a shrill sound. His eyes are wide with terror as he stares around seeing but not seeing. </p><p>“Jensen!”  Jared shouts. He leaps from the bed and runs for the light switch. He slams his hand against it and light floods the room, fills every corner. Jensen ceases shrieking. His eyes are still wide and he’s breathing as if he’s just run a race. </p><p>Jared hurries back over to join him on their bed, cautiously puts an arm around him. He’s clammy with sweat. “It’s okay, baby.” </p><p>“Fuck,” Jensen pants. The stark terror fades from his eyes. “I <i>hate</i> the fucking dark.”</p><p>Jared nods and kisses his damp temple. </p><p> </p><p>“How do I look?” Jensen asks, striking a sexy model pose, sucking in his cheeks in an attempt at Blue Steel. Jared loves that he gets to see this playful side of Jensen. </p><p>Jared gave Jensen a critical eye. Jensen is a little thinner than he was before but it looked good on him; leaner, tighter. The three-piece slim-fit Givenchy suit looked spectacular on him; hugged those broad shoulders and tapered down to his trimmer waist. Jared strolled over to his man. </p><p>“Look good enough to eat, baby,” Jared husked gripping his hips while leaning in and nuzzling Jensen’s neck, inhaling his Chanel Bleu parfum. “Sure we can’t stay home and I do just that?”</p><p>Jared was not looking forward to getting back into their regular routine. He didn’t want Jensen out of his sight for a single second. Before, Jared never realized how often Jensen was away from him: business meetings, luncheons, conferences, even the odd charity gala. Jared had thought he had always been at his man’s side but he wasn’t. He was with Jensen at the Ackles Compound or dealing with Organization business, but Jensen went alone and unaccompanied when he was in his CEO and philanthropist mode. Usually when Jensen was at Ackles Enterprises Jared was with Petey, collecting from the rackets or doing anything else that needed to be done. Jared accompanying Jensen everywhere within the Ackles Enterprises building would be a little weird. Not many if any legitimate CEOs were accompanied by armed bodyguards. Maybe Jensen could get him a job doing something at Ackles Enterprises, he’d clean toilets or push a mail cart, he wasn’t picky; then, he could always be hanging around Jensen and it wouldn’t be odd.  </p><p>Jensen gently pushed him away. “No, Jare. I am a somewhat public figure and I have a company to run. I need to get back to that. Tommy Blue did an excellent job while I was gone but I am the CEO.”</p><p>Jared nodded. “Okay.”</p><p>“Since I don’t have a driver anymore,” Jensen’s handsome face twisted into a snarl before smoothing out. “I should probably find the keys to my BMW.”</p><p>“I’ll drive you,” Jared rushed to say. “Any excuse to get behind Celeste’s wheel I’m all for it.”</p><p>Jensen snorted and shook his head. “I can’t <i>believe</i> you named your car Celeste.”</p><p>“Shut up,” Jared pouts. He’ll take no slights against the only lady in his life.</p><p>“Okay.” Jensen rests his hand on Jared’s lower back and guides him out of their room. “I expect you to see to your normal duties while I’m at work, Jared.” There was that Big Boss Man voice again but it sparked no desire in Jared this time.</p><p>Jared opens his mouth to offer some excuse or make some offer to stay with him but Jensen cuts across him. “No, Jared. See to your responsibilities and I will call you to come pick me up when my day is done. Understand?”</p><p>Jared’s stomach flops inside him. “Yes, <i>sir</i>.”</p><p>Jared loves his Bentley—Celeste—a gorgeous classy lady if there ever was one, and she handles like a dream as Jared navigated her down the highway toward Ackles Enterprises. Jensen was in the back seat, sunglasses over his eyes—Jensen’s eyes were very sensitive to light now and he always wore heavily tinted sunglasses most of the day—glued to his phone, a briefcase of papers open on the seat beside him. He was in full CEO mode and it was hot and very soothing to see. Still, Jared intended to call Aldis and have him link Jared’s phone to all the security cameras in Jensen’s office building. He couldn’t have his physical eyes on him but he could still watch over him.</p><p>Jared gets off of the highway heading into downtown Dallas when he hears Jensen say his name from the backseat.</p><p>“Jared. Jared, please,” his voice is hoarse and his breathing ragged.</p><p>Jared turns in the driver’s seat to look at his man. His face is chalk-white and beads of sweat dot his forehead. His eyes are wide and startled. </p><p>“What?  What is it?”  Jared’s going for his gun.</p><p>“Stop the car. Pull over. I have to get out of here. I gotta get out. I can’t…I can’t breathe.”  Jensen is clawing at the door handle.</p><p>Jared’s eyes scan the surroundings. He finds a laundromat and pulls into the parking lot. As soon as the car stops moving Jensen explodes out of the back. Jared immediately follows him. He’s bent at the waist and breathing heavily, clutching his chest. </p><p><i>Oh, Christ, no</i>! Was Jensen having a heart attack? Doc Morgan had assured them both that no damage had been done to Jensen’s heart muscle despite the starvation and dehydration. But maybe it was some other underlying cause, and Jensen’s own father died of a heart attack. He puts his gun back in his holster and grabs his phone, already pulling up Doc Morgan’s contact screen.</p><p>Jared is well aware that he is fucked up from events in his past—it’s why he needs to be in control of sex, although on very rare occasions, he will let Jensen tap his ass—it’s reasonable to think that Jensen may be a little scarred from everything he endured. He dismisses the heart attack theory and comes to the more reasonable conclusion that Jensen is having a panic attack. </p><p>He shields Jensen from the view of passersby and places a hand on his back. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” he says softly. “Just breathe for me, baby. It’s okay.”</p><p>Several minutes pass like that, Jared whispering soothing words to his man, and scowling at anyone who glances their way. He’s sure people mean well but they can fuck off. </p><p>Gradually Jensen’s breathing calms. He stands and exhales a long breath. “I don’t know what happened,” Jensen says, his wide eyes still harboring a touch of fear in their depths. “It just…it seemed too cramped back there or something. No offence to Celeste, but I had to get out.”</p><p>Jared nods, brows pulling together. He gets it. Same way he gets that Jensen needs to sleep with the lights on now. “We’ll take an SUV next time you need to go anywhere. More space.” Jared pauses for a beat before asking, “Does this mean we can’t go spelunking in the Carlsbad Caverns for our next anniversary?” </p><p>Jensen looks at him incredulously before scoffing. “Oh, fuck off, you asshole,” Jensen says but he’s smiling big and bright, color returning to his face. His eyes are soft and fond as he gazes up at Jared. Jensen is never more beautiful than when he’s smiling and Jared will do everything in his power to see that he keeps doing it. </p><p> </p><p>“Jared, for god’s sake! How many fucking clothes do you need? Do I even need to mention fucking shoes and hats!  Then there are the watches and cufflinks! Your shit is gonna take up all the space in my closet. And dresser!” Jensen rants as Jared moves more of his clothing into Jensen’s—no, <i>their</i> room.</p><p>Since the guys know they are a couple Jensen and Jared have decided to abandon all pretense and Jared’s moving into the third floor master suite.</p><p>Jared grins. “Well, who insists on giving me a watch whenever the fuck they feel like it? Hmm?” </p><p>“Not true,” Jensen counters. “I give you watches for our anniversary.”</p><p>“Yeah, and there have been <i>fifteen</i> of them, Jense. And I adore them all.” He bends and places a kiss on Jensen’s pouting mouth. </p><p>“Yeah, well,” Jensen sulks. </p><p>“I love nice clothes, Jensen. I never had any growing up. If my things are crowding you, I’ll move them back to the downstairs bedroom and use that closet.” </p><p>Jensen’s sulky expression melts to one of soft sympathy. “That’s not what I meant at all, Jare. I want you to have all the nice things you used to dream about. This room—hell, the whole fucking house—is as much yours as mine. I was just busting your fashionista balls.”</p><p>Jared grips Jensen’s hips. “I can think of more fun things you can do to my balls, baby.”</p><p> </p><p>Jensen strolls out of the en suite, inky black pajama pants low on his hips. “What are you reading?” he asks, turning on all the lights before climbing into bed. </p><p>“Letter from Petey. Wish that big bastard would use email like everyone else.” He passes the letter to Jensen. </p><p>“Parks Department, huh?” Jensen says, indicating Peter’s new job. </p><p>“Yeah. Seems really happy with it, doesn’t he?” Jared can’t help the grin. He is so glad that Pete has found a job that makes him happy and resonates with his love of nature. </p><p>Jensen passes the letter back. “He does. And good for him. Tell him when you write back I’m glad the oncologist I sent to his mother is helping.” </p><p>“I feel kinda bad,” Jared says, folding the letter up and placing it with the others in his nightstand.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Because Petey’s been gone three months now and I hardly think about him. I miss him, he was a constant in my life for over twenty years, but…” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. </p><p>“Hey,” Jensen says, taking his hand. “You remember what Peter said when he left, you didn’t need him anymore. He was right. You have me. We have each other.” They share a tender kiss. </p><p>Jensen returns to looking over contracts and spreadsheets while Jared goes back to the book about the Bonanno crime family he’s reading on his Kindle.  It’s quiet and ridiculously domestic and Jared has never been happier. </p><p>“I want to get the guys together soon,” Jensen says sometime later. “I need to thank them for everything they—and you—did for me.”</p><p>“Jense, you don’t have to thank me or them. Everything I do I do because you’re my life and I love you. Your friends love you.”</p><p>Color blooms across Jensen’s cheeks. His eyes go liquid and soft. He sways forward and they are kissing, gentle brushes of lips and tongues. The older Jared gets, the more he realizes that kissing can be more intimate, more sexual, than the actual act of making love, sharing taste and breath with another person. </p><p>“More than that, though,” Jensen says after they part. “I need to name a successor.”</p><p>“So, who’s it gonna be? Kane or Tommy Blue.” Jared doesn’t care who it is, he is just glad it isn’t him anymore.</p><p>“Neither. Here’s the thing. When I die, I know you will soon follow, either from heartbreak or by your own hand, so it can’t be you, in addition to your own misgivings. If I decide to retire, a member of the IC, who are my age, or a couple of years older than me, will be too old. No, I have someone younger in mind,” Jensen says cryptically. </p><p> </p><p>The dining room is ablaze with light, even the drapes are pulled back from the windows to let in the waning light of the balmy summer night. It has been a long while since the dining room has been so elaborately decorated but it’s a special occasion. Mad Mike Rosenbaum is being formally enfolded into Jensen’s Inner Circle. That isn’t the only reason for this intimate get-together. Jensen is addressing the issue of succession. He has been very tight-lipped about the whole thing since their little talk a month ago. Regardless of who it is, Jared trusts Jensen to make the right choice. </p><p>Unlike the Dinner Party so long ago, the table is round, for the more intimate gathering. Jared on Jensen’s immediate right and the other IC members will choose where they would like to sit. The seat on Jensen’s left empty.</p><p>Lazy Jase, helped by Kane, enters the dining room. Jensen gives his old friend a gentle hug and whispers something to him. The small caliber bullet had pressed against a nerve in Jase’s spine causing temporary paralysis from swelling. Once the bullet had been removed, the swelling went down, and Jase regained feeling in his lower limbs. He needs a little physical therapy but he’s well-recovered. Any other assistance he needs Jared and Jensen will see that he gets it. Stevie Guitar strolls in. Everyone greets him with a wave. Jensen gives him a handshake and a one armed hug before he takes a seat by Lazy Jase. </p><p>Tommy and Mike walk in together, hands clasped. Jensen greets Tommy as he had everyone else with a handshake and hug, then motions for him to sit. Mike goes to follow, but Tommy shakes his head. Mike shifts a bit awkwardly as he stands there.</p><p>Jensen stands and the guys cease their banter. “Mr. Rosenbaum,” Jensen says, not exactly his Big Boss Man voice but more formal than what Jared is used to. He makes a sweeping gesture with his arm toward the group of men seated around the table. “Welcome to the Inner Circle.”</p><p>Mike’s face lights up. “Aww shit! For real? Kick fucking ass!”  He does a little fist pump.</p><p>Jared can’t hide his grin at Jensen’s flummoxed expression. “Mr. Rosenbaum,” <i>that</i> was the Big Boss Man voice if Jared ever heard it and his dick fucking twitched in response. “Men in my Inner Circle conduct themselves with a certain dignity and decorum. You would be smart to do likewise. Tommy, keep your man in line.”</p><p>Mike immediately cows. “Yes, sir. Of course. My apologies.”  He takes his seat next to Tommy Blue.</p><p>“It’s great to see you all again and be here with you,” Jensen begins.</p><p>“Good to see you, too, Boss,” Stevie says.</p><p>The other IC members pound the table with their fists and make similar statements. Jared saw the color rising in Jensen’s cheeks as he shakes his head. Their cheers taper off and Jensen clears his throat. </p><p>“Thank you for that, guys,” he smiles that adorable and somehow bashful smile. “I owe every one of you a debt that can never be repaid. Suffice it to say if you need anything, <i>anything</i>, consider it yours.”</p><p>“Aww, come on, Jensen. We’re your <i>friends</i>,” Kane says sounding annoyed. “You don’t owe us anything.”</p><p>“Be that as it may, the offer still stands. Now, the purpose of this meeting, apart from welcoming Mad Mike into our little cabal, is that there is someone else I wish to induct into our ranks.” A murmur goes around the table and curious expressions are exchanged. Jared locks gazes with Jensen and knows that he alone understands that the man who comes through that door is who Jensen has chosen for his successor. Jensen turns toward the doors. “Do come in, Mr. Ford.”</p><p>The doors to the dining room open and a handsome blond young man walks in, straight-backed, but with an easy loping grace. Jared has a moment of déjà vu so strong it’s almost disorienting. He feels as if he were looking at <i>himself</i> only with very deliberate changes. The kid, Colin, is tall and lanky, his blond hair is a bit long but styled in a fashionable deliberately messy way, his blue eyes are big and soulful but radiate caution and coldness. He is young, probably not even twenty. He is stylishly dressed in a burgundy suit—decent suit but not designer, Jared would recognize such—his oxfords are a little scuffed but in good repair, and a skinny black tie. More than ever Jared feels he was never the right choice to take over. He would have gone with the safe easy choice for successor, a member of the IC or other high-ranking member of the Organization. Jensen has chosen someone with a little experience but still young enough to be moldable. </p><p>“This is Mr. Colin Ford. I believe you may be acquainted with Michael, as you worked under him. Michael, I feel the need to apologize for taking one of the guys from your ranks, but I feel young Mr. Ford is better suited to different tasks.”</p><p>“Hey, no need to apologize, Boss Ackles. My guys are literally your guys.”</p><p>Jensen smiles. “Quite. To my right is Jared Padalecki. Beside him is Christian Kane, Beside Mr. Kane is Steve Carlson and Jason Manns.” Each IC member nods as Jensen makes the introductions. “Mr. Ford if you would, please?” He motions to the empty chair on his left.</p><p>Colin nods, but can’t hide his excitement; he does try however. Jared knows with a little age and control Colin will have his shit on lock, like Jensen. </p><p>“Hey,” Colin greets. “I’m not sure why I’m here, Mr. Ackles, sir, but I’m really stoked.” He flashes a sunny grin.</p><p>“If you’re here, it’s because the Big Boss Man sees something in you,” Jared says.</p><p>“Not sure what.”  Colin’s youthful uncertainty comes through then with a little shrug. “I’m just a dealer. Small-time. You guys are Elite.”</p><p>“And I used to work on a loading dock, Kid. Jensen knows potential when he sees it. Don’t disrespect him by putting yourself down.” Jared says, just a gentle little verbal slap to the young blood.</p><p>Colin glances at Jared, blue eyes assessing as they sweep over him. Jared gets it then, why Jensen picked him. There is coldness in him; rough sophistication and charm. Some experience and polish and he will be the perfect heir to Jensen’s Organization. </p><p>“Not, Kid, sir,” his voice has a little tremor but there is steel there as well. “My name is Colin Ford.”</p><p>Jensen’s eyes are on them, carefully observing their interplay. Jared knows that if Colin is impudent with him, Jensen will take away everything he’s offering; though Jared doubts he has straight-up told Colin that he intends him to be his successor. </p><p>“Okay, Chevy,” Jared says, offhandedly.</p><p>The other IC members guffaw. Colin’s cheeks flame but he rolls his eyes good naturedly, understanding that he’s being ribbed and initiated. </p><p>“You’re playin’ with the big boys now, Chevy,” Kane bellows.</p><p>Colin’s still blushing and he can’t hide his grin at feeling included. Jared knows that feeling, felt it way back when he first played poker with these guys. </p><p>“Not really my thing, but you do you, player,” the kid says glibly. </p><p>That draws another round of laughter from the IC.</p><p>“Now,” Jensen says, though he had not raised his voice at all above the din of laughter and teasing, everyone goes silent in an instant. “I suppose I need to address the private fact that my relationship with Jared is known to all of you now, yourself included, Mr. Ford.”</p><p>Colin’s brows raise ever so slightly and he swallows hard, probably regretting having mouthed off to the Big Boss Man’s significant other, but other than that no real reaction. Jensen could have addressed this issue before introducing Colin, but knows Jensen is allowing the young man into his very small circle of trust.  If Colin betrays that trust Jared will end him, whether or not he feels a kinship with him.</p><p>“Why the fuck didn’t you tell us? Don’t you trust us, Jensen?” Stevie Guitar seemed genuinely angry. “Like Kane said: we’re your <i>friends</i>, or we’re supposed to be. You think so little of us, trust us so little, you think we’d out you?” </p><p>Jared gets to his feet. Friend or not, he will not allow Jensen to be talked to like that. “Watch it, Stevie.”</p><p>Jensen presses his palm to Jared’s chest in his familiar calming gesture and Jared quiets and retakes his seat. Colin’s eyes bounce back and forth between Jared, Stevie, and Jensen, taking in everything. That kid is like a sponge.</p><p>“My electing not to share the details of my very private life was not a slight against any of you, but I do apologize if you view it as such. My private life has always been that and will continue to be so. It should be enough for all of you to know I have someone and I’m happy. The same way I’d feel for any one of you.”</p><p>“Kane said y’all have been together <i>fifteen</i> years? Like, goddamn!” Jase exclaims but he’s smiling.</p><p>Jared sighs and rolls his eyes. The biddies had already been gossiping about them. If Jared had been in his right mind he never would have kissed Jensen so publicly and therefore outing them. He had been overcome with relief and happiness that he had got to Jensen in time, kissing him seemed the only thing to do.</p><p>“Right?” Tommy says. “Like who the hell stays together that long these days?”</p><p>Mike slaps Tommy’s bicep. “Fucker. We’ve been together a long damn time, too.”</p><p>“Fuck buddies to okay-I-guess-we’re-a-couple-now doesn’t have the same gravitas as always and forever, numbnuts,” Jared contributes. </p><p>“Keep your mind off my nuts, Little Jay,” Mike retorts. </p><p>Jensen watches their banter with annoyed affection before speaking again. “Yes, Jared and I have been together for fifteen years and will be together for the rest of our lives.” </p><p>To Jared’s utter surprise, Jensen bends and kisses him on the mouth, lacing his fingers through Jared’s hair. Jensen’s eager tongue licks at the seam of his lips and Jared parts them in an instant as their friends hoot and holler around them. </p><p>They have been through a hell of a thing, and may be a little broken because of it, but they know the other will always be there to help put them back together.</p>
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